“You’re really ok?”
“I’m ok,” he chokes, pulling back to wipe my tears.
Then Andrea joins the dog pile. Seba grunts. “Ribs, baby girl.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She glances between us. “Where are my kisses?”
We move at the same time, our heads knocking.
“Owww.”
“Fuck,” Seba groans. “I need a fucking helmet…”
She gives us a watery smile. “Re-do.”
This time, when we lean in, Seba angles his head so we can both kiss her at the same time. I cup her jaw, taking over before letting Seba have her all to himself.
“Thank you,” he mouths against her lips.
She’s shaking now. “Any time, big guy.”
I slump against Seba’s chest as they make out a little more, listening to the steady beat of his heart, gazing up at our girl.
Andrea breaks the kiss and hiccups a laugh. “I shot my dad.”
Seba’s lips split into a wide grin. “In the foot.”
“He kicked you.”
“Wait.” I shoot up. “The gunshot was you?”
Seba sighs, draping an arm around my back and palming my waist. “Saved my damned life.”
My jaw hangs. “When the fuck did you get a gun?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Two years ago, now?”
“Why?” I shriek.
“I live alone. Off campus. And I generally mistrust everyone because I’ve read way too much true crime not to protect myself. People fucking suck. Well. Most of them do. Not you two. But I’m in love with both of you, so that doesn’t count…”
Her rambling smooths out my frantic energy. Neither of us interrupts her as she goes off on another tangent, which I join while the paramedic returns to finish checking over Seba…
Who just keeps looking at us with thislightin his eyes. Smiling. Laughing, despite it all. Like he’s finallyhappy. And it makes me realize how sad he was. How weighed down.
My lips graze his ear. “You’re free.”
He grins. “Thank fucking God.”
Seventy-Six
ANDREA
One Week Later.
“Left, left, left!”
Downshifting, I swerve into the right lane.
