“Shh,” I murmured, dropping the mitts to the ground so I could rub soothing circles up and down her spine with one hand, the other cupping the back of her head, holding her close. “It’s okay.”
Eventually, she stopped fighting me, her body shaking as she cried into my chest.
“I’m so tired of feeling scared,” she managed to gasp around her sobs. “Of feeling weak.”
“It’s okay to feel scared,” I assured her gently. “But you are the opposite of weak, Sutton.” I backed away, moving my hands to cup her face and tilting her chin back so she’d meet my eyes. “Do you understand me? I told you before, and I’ll say it again. Hell, I’ll remind you every day if you need me to. You are the strongest person I know. Tell me you understand.”
Though tears still dripped from her eyes, her sobs were losing steam, and she nodded.
“Say it, sunny.”
“I understand,” she choked out.
“Say you’re strong.”
“I’m strong.”
“That’s my girl,” I grinned, pulling her back into a hug. “And so long as I’m breathing, nothing and no one will hurt you. You understand that too, right?”
“You almost weren’t, though.”
“What?”
“You almost weren’t breathing anymore,” she said, lifting her head and propping her chin on my chest. Tears still flowed freely from her eyes, but the choking sobs had eased. “I almost lost you.”
I shook my head. “Yousavedme, sunny.Youkept me here.You. No one else. You gave me—gaveus—a second chance.”
She dropped her head again and leaned in, pressing a kiss to my chest.
Right over my bullet wound.
Right over my heart.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” she whispered. “Not when I’ve still got…stuff. But I’m ready to try if you are.”
Stuffdidn’t scare me. Whatever it was, we’d face it together.
Clasping her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I tilted her face up to mine so I could drop a featherlight kiss on her lips, moving in slowly. Giving her plenty of time to back away.
She didn’t.
“Baby, I’ve been ready.”
twenty-five
. . .
SUTTON
I had givenmyself nearly sixteen years to get over Lane, to move the fuck on, and I hadn’t managed to accomplish it.
Two months living with him andallmy poorly constructed walls were crashing down.
When I told him I wanted to try, I’d meant it. And his response made my heart soar. But when he hadn’t demanded to take me to bed, when we’d instead gone upstairs and gone our separate ways, my intrusive thoughts took over. What if he didn’t actually want me? What if he’d just been saying that, telling me what I wanted to hear in my moment of weakness?
Or maybe he had meant it but would change his mind? Especially after he realized how broken I still was?
He kissed you, I reminded myself. In a room full of people, no less. And he’d explicitly stated he’dbeenready to give our relationship a second chance.
