I’ve always told myself that traveling light was practical. But standing here with Hartley, it feels more like proof that some part of me never expected to stay anywhere long enough to need more.
“I like to keep things light,” I say, smacking his ass as I head for my books. “It makes moving easier. You should be thanking me for that right about now.”
“Guess we won’t need to rent a trailer. Good thing I decided not to pull one of mine up here.” He picks up the bathroom box again. “Put another one on top of this, and I’ll carry them to the truck.”
I pick one up and place it where requested. “Do we need to tape these?”
“Nah. I’ll put my bed cover down, and it’ll be fine. It’s not supposed to rain for a few days.”
“Need me to get a door for you?”
“Nope. I got it.”
I tug my phone out again, find a name, and touch it. It rings twice before she picks up.
“You’d better have a good reason for calling me,” Lolly says. “I send you off with a hunk, and you’re calling your grandma.”
I laugh as a lightness settles over me. “That hunk is carrying stuff from my apartment to his truck.”
“How are things going?”
She says it innocently, like she isn’t prying for information—specifically, information about whether her little plan is working.
I’ve mostly understood what she was doing since the beginning. The way of going about it was suspect, but she hadgood intentions. And now that I’ve had a little time to breathe—and reflect on the other side of things—what she was doing is crystal clear.
I’m not sure what this will look like with Hartley in a year, but I know that I’m not going to stress about it. I worry too much, and that’s probably why I’m too scared to sit still for long periods of time. It gives me too much time to think.
But I have a feeling that even if I’m at Hartley’s with time on my hands, I won’t be alone. And that means I won’t have to deal with whatever’s in my head all by myself. Although I’m still not sure if I want to dig into those memories, I do know it feels less scary with Hartley.
I’m also pretty sure Lolly knew this. She must know that he needs me, too.
“Things are going good,” I say, fighting a lump in my throat. “But I’m calling just to say thank you.”
“For what, honey?”
Hartley comes in and stops in the doorway. Concern is written all over his handsome face.
“For this,” I say, as if that explains it all.
And maybe it does.
“Lolly, I need to go,” I say, as relief shadows Hartley’s face. “I love you.”
“I love you the mostest.”
Smiling, I end the call.
“Is everything okay?” Hartley asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
I gaze up at him. “Do you think we could skip the hotel tonight and just go home?”
He answers that with a kiss. And that’s fine by me.
Because for the first time, I’m not packing to leave. I’m packing to begin.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
