And it’s all because I had the courage to run.
To ask for help.
To come here and find them.
But most of all, I had the courage to fight. And that’s what I’m going to do…keep fighting.I chased the freedom I was so desperate to have. I’ll be damned if I let someone like Miles Keller take it from me.
Now that I’ve found a place—now that I’ve found people—that make me feel free, all I want is…peace.
As I drag the brush that was already conveniently in here slowly through my hair, I try to ignore the ache in my chest, because despite the scene I made in the driveway, I want somebody here. After all of my speeches about independence and space and not flip-flopping between them, the last thing I should do is ask one of them to sleep with me.
But… today was alongday.
And as much as I wish it would, independence won’t hold me in the middle of the night like one of them will.
You made your bed, now you gotta lie in it, Abs.
Sighing, I set the brush down and turn off the bathroom light before I can talk myself into tucking tail. But when I open the bathroom door, I stop.
Lawson is there. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Already in nothing but his black briefs, his forearms resting on his thighs, hands loose between his knees.
He looks up at me, and a soft smile curves his lips.
I step toward him slowly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
His eyes move over me once—slow and unhurried. Damp hair. Bare legs. Thin cotton clinging against some of his favorite places.
“I figured,” he says gently, “under all that attitude outside, you’d still want someone with you tonight. It was… it was a long day. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be in here too,” he adds quietly.
I can practically feel my heart melting.
Taking his hand, I step between his knees before straddling his lap. His hand instinctively moves to my hips. “I want you here too,” I say softly.
I drag my hand along his cheek, letting my fingertips brush over the scruff of his beard. And when they reach the scar along his jaw, I take my time as I memorize every ridge of the raised skin.
He exhales slowly, and his hand slides up my back, over the cotton of my shirt. “Thank you for staying here.”
I inhale deeply and smile. “It’s just because I know you’re so obsessed with me.”
My tone is teasing.
He isn’t.
“It’s becauseI love you.”
There it is.
My heart slams once, and I lean back just enough to look at him.
“Lawson…” I swallow. “Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be lucky enough to find a love like this. Something so strong. So steady. So…pure.” His hands tighten their hold on me. “I didn’t think people like you existed. Or this place. Or Griffin. Or Lucy. Or…” My voice trembles faintly. “All of you.”
My thumb brushes along his cheek. “And now I’ve found it more times over than I know what to do with.”
“I love this house. I love the land. I love the chaos and the noise and the way none of you let me carry anything alone anymore.” A breath shudders out of me as I utter the words, “I love you, Lawson Taylor.”
For a second, he just stares at me. And then—despite the stubbornness and the burly exterior—his eyes glass over. Tears pool there, not falling, but close. “You have no idea what that does to me,” he answers roughly.
“I think I do,” I tease faintly, feeling the solid heat of him beneath me.
