I didn’t want him to leave. I could stay like this all night.
Hell, I wanted him to be in my bed all night.
There may have been rules and secrets when it came to dating Avery, but there weren’t any when it came to the two of us. Right?
“Do you want to stay?” I whispered.
Mateo nuzzled my neck and gave me a soft kiss. “I want to, but I have to be at work early—like, five in the morning early.”
I groaned. “Stay anyway.”
He smiled against me. “That’s early, Minnesota. Are you sure?”
I lifted up slightly, turning just enough so I could look into his eyes. “I want you in my bed,” I said. “If you want to, of course. If not, I understand.”
He sat up slightly and pulled out, then surprised me by rolling me onto my back. I sucked in a breath as he pinned me beneath him, his face hovering above mine.
“You want me in your bed, huh?”
God, he was such a cocky bastard.
“I do.” I fought with a smile and lost. “I want you in my bed.”
“I’ll have to leave early. Maybe before you wake up.”
“I don’t care.”
“I thought you didn’t want to date. You’ve got a cactus heart. Prickly. Grumpy.”
“I said I want you in mybed,” I said. “Not that I want to date. Not that I don’t want to date, it’s just . . . It’s complicated.”
“Mm-hmm. How about you get me into your shower? And then you can get me into your bed.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Avery
This was going to suck.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, anxiety corroding my mental state like battery acid. Mom’s house was just a few minutes outside of town. The driveway was long and rocky, my truck wobbling as I pulled between my brothers’ trucks.
I turned off the engine and sat still for a moment.
My childhood house wasn’t home anymore.
It had felt like home my entire life until Dad died. A four bedroom, two bath, with brick walls and a large flagstone wrap-around porch I’d spend countless days playing on. I used to spend hours drawing with chalk, creating art my dad would croon over and my mom would wash off later.
This house held a lot of good memories. A lot of frustrating ones. Some bad ones. And then there was the sadness that had bled its way into every nook and cranny.
I always knew losing someone would be hard. Everyoneknowsthat. But when it actually happens, the grief is an all-consuming leech on life. All of the knowing could never have prepared me for how fucking hard life would be without the man who raised me.
I hoped I would make him proud. I tried my best with the studio and helping out where I could around town. It wasn’t necessarily the glamorous life I’d imagined for myself, but I still got to do what I loved.
Evie and June were going to kill me. I was tempted to text them now to fill them in on everything that had happened with Mateo, but I’d kept it all to myself over the last few days. Texting him, openly flirting with him, staying up late in the night talking on the phone. I hadn’t felt this sort of giddy happiness in so long, and I didn’t like keeping it a secret.
Not from them, of course. I’d fill them in soon. But, I knew it would be a four-hour conversation over cheap margaritas, a bag of chips, and bad 80s hair band music.
