He runs his nose down the length of mine, and all I feel coil inside of me is pure, vehement remorse when I speak again. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just so scared, so fucking scared.” I slam my head into his chest with frustration.
He slides his hand into my hair deeper, and I rest my cheek in his palm, feeling unworthy of his touch.
“Trauma is ugly, Cherry, and even though it pissed me the fuck off, I can’t be selfish and blame you for being cautious.”
“Ugh.” I exhale deeply. “I’m a fucking asshole.”
Harlen starts to laugh. “We all are.” He grins wide. “Humans suck.”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, suppressing the need to chuckle because, well, he’s so right.
His expression turns serious as he runs his thumb across the length of my jaw, digging his fingers slightly into the bone.
“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we were here, and you were throwing a palm in my face?” He smiles again, and I whimper. I still hate that I did that.
Harlen licks his lips, his tongue flicking over mine when he repeats the same words he said then and the ones he also said last night. “I’m ready for you, Cherry. All of you. The good, the fucking bad and all the in-between.”
I’m crying, an undeserving mess in his hands, and he doesn’t throw me away, just continues to hold me.
“Just go easy on me, alright? I’m fucking fragile with you.”
I nod. “I’m so sor–”
His lips press onto mine, and I’m quickly pulling him into me desperately, needing him closer, needing his breath so I can breathe, apologizing to him with every sweep of my tongue.
Rusty’s voice breaks us apart. “Fuck, settle down, lovebirds. You guys coming in?”
We both laugh, and when Harlen’s blue eyes meet mine, all I see is hunger, a flame burning only for me.
I always knew he was too good for me.
He grabs my ass and carries me toward the deck in his arms.
His mouth brushes the shell of my ear. “Don’t be afraid, I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.We are going to end this.” Placing a kiss on my shoulder, he licks over his lips, and I shiver when he rasps, “I fucking promise.”
My legs are still wrapped tightly around Harlen when he carries me onto the deck. I can hear the voices of Rusty and Chase at my back as I reluctantly slide down Harlen’s body to my feet.
I gaze up at him and notice all planes of playfulness have eradicated from his face, because now,he means business. His arm drapes around my shoulder, holding me close to his side. “Come on,” he whispers, then we close the space between us and them.
Harlen pulls a chair away from the table, and I take a seat, though he doesn’t do the same. Rusty rises from his own, and in a blink of an eye, chairs are screeching around us and Harlen has his father pinned to the wall with his forearm.
“Did you know?” he growls his accusation over him, and I feel my heart sink to my gut watching the very scene play out before my eyes. Harlen uses the same words I said to him before I gave him a chance to speak, before I was hurling assumptions in his face.
He’s just as hurt,scared, as I was.
And this is the proof.
Rusty doesn’t retaliate. Even when Harlen lifts him off the wall and throws him back down, he stays eerily still.
Harlen’s voice is shaky, a ripple of emotion, fear, a hopeful plea. “Please, tell me you didn’t know.”
Rusty’s tattooed hand finds a firm place at the side of Harlen’s neck, and he angles Harlen’s forehead into his when he speaks. “I don’t, so do you want to tell me so I can help you?”
Harlen keeps his father pinned to the outside of the house for a couple of beats longer before he steps back and nods, but his father quickly pulls him in for a hug. “Come on, son. Let’s talk.”
There’s a creak behind me when someone steps out onto the deck, and my heart falls into my stomach when I hear his voice. “Blainey.”
My head snaps around, and when my eyes meet the matching blues of my brother’s, I’m shoving out of my seat faster than I ever have, leaping into his tattooed arms.
