Page 50 of Cruz

Still, I want to be brave. I want to take the advice that I know I’d give to Liam if he came to me, asking me if taking a chance might ever be worth it, or if chances only lead to heartbreak and hurt. “Do you know a place like that?”

“I think so. Some of the guys talk about fields and back roads around here where the stars are beautiful and no one’s around. They usually ride out on their bikes, I’d love to take you out sometime. Though it’ll be in my truck right now, not on my bike.

Cruz isn’t the kind of person to ask me to go down a back road with him because all he wants is a quick fuck in the backseat of his truck. If he says the stars are beautiful, it’s because they absolutely are, and he’d like me to see them, to share that joy and majesty and wonder with me. Some of his heart for mine.

That’s who Cruz is.

That’s why I can trust him, and why I’d say that yes, there are risks that are worth it.

I untangle myself first. I stand and offer my hand, guiding Cruz up. He pretends like he doesn’t favor his knee, but I see the way he balances hard on his left, keeping his entire weight off the bad one.

He hobbles to the door, not even bothering to hide that he’s limping, but he does try to keep most of the pain from his face. “Don’t feel obligated,” he tells me. “I’ll understand if you need to cancel. This is… tenuous. I won’t be offended, and it won’t affect the way I think about you or Liam.”

I don’t want this to be a right person, wrong time situation. I ache for Cruz. Ache because he’s a good man who deserves good things in return and who hasn’t always had them. I ache to have him at my side, quietly or talking. I ache for what he showed me is still possible when he touched me in the kitchen. It’s more than just his mouth, his hands, his body, though if I think about that, I’m going to tear out of my skin long before Sunday. It’s the way his soul seems to see mine in a special, private way that no other person has ever done.

“You can call me or text me,” I say, though my voice is so quiet coming out, it’s hard for him to hear. He leans back in slightly. I want to pull him all the way from the door and ask him to stay, but I can’t. Not yet. Maybe not for a good while, but I still have hope for one day. “If you want to, you can.”

He leans in, his breath hot and sweet against my cheek. He still smells like peanut butter. That shouldn’t be such a massive turn on. “Thank you. I will.”

He lingers at the door. “I’ll let myself out and lock up.”

“I have to go down and clean. I can lock up after you.”

He handles the stairs masterfully, even though it likely hurts like hell. He pauses at the door again, after he unlocks it. “Goodnight,” he says, so simple. So full of meaning. So soft and kind, straight from his heart.

“Goodnight.” Like he would do for me, I watch until he’s safely in his truck and driving away before I turn around and start my cleaning.

Hopefully, the methodical tasks will help. Help everything.

I said goodnight, and not just because that’s what people say. It could have been a very bad night, but it’s not. Liam’s not mad at me. He grew up faster than I knew. Goodnight could have been a goodbye, but it wasn’t. I’ll try very hard to ensure that it never is.

Chapter 18

Cruz

I didn’t know what to wear. I don’t own anything fancy, and driving down a dirt road to the middle of nowhere hardly calls for a tux. I settled on jeans, a hoodie, and a leather jacket. I picked the least worn jeans and the most worn jacket. My broken in leather has a different aura than nasty old jeans. I threw my big old wool plaid jacket in the backseat of the truck.

Pulling up at the café, I feel a little ridiculous holding my gift. It’s no bouquet of flowers or chocolates, but it’s not nothing either.

Sloane is absolutely gorgeous as she opens the glass door of the café for me. She was downstairs waiting. I was stressing about being twenty minutes early, wondering if that was too much, if the gift was too much, if it’s all too much, but now I’m glad that I didn’t circle the block a few times before parking.

I love every sweater Sloane has, but this one, with the big Siamese cat featuring a huge red bow on the back and two small cats on the front pockets, is my favorite so far.

Anything she wears, no matter what, would look good on her.

I hold out the plant, trying to find words, and just like always, I fail. Sloane takes the small cactus in the cute little green ceramic pot with white polka dots. She unfolds the small sheet of paper that I attached to the pot with an elastic band.

“Care instructions?” Her eyes flick to the ceiling. Her smile is almost instant. “Was Liam telling you tales about my plant endeavors?”

“Misdemeanors, I believe.”

She snorts. “I won’t kill this. I promise that I’ll read the instructions and watch some videos on being a good plant mom.” She sets the cactus on the table closest to the counter to grab later. “Thank you.”

She closes the distance between us and side hugs me. I go for a full hug but draw back at the last second. She bumps into me and I bump into her. She almost goes flying, but I throw an arm around her waist and steady her. She laughs, a little nervous. I know how she feels. I’m a wreck. I’ve been a wreck for days, expecting Sloane to cancel and fully understanding why she would. She didn’t. This afternoon, as the time for me to pick her up drew closer, the nerves were so bad that I could barely breathe. I wasn’t even that bad on the worst of the missions I went on.

“Liam told me that we didn’t have to go out. He said he could find something to do for a few hours if we wanted privacy.” Her cheeks were already flushed, but her whole face blushes a soft pink. She shoves a stray strand of hair behind her ear, clearly flustered. “I told him it wasn’t that kind of drive. It was weird, him standing there like I would, about to tell me to be careful and to have fun and be home at a reasonable time. It felt a little bit unnatural.”

“What can I do to make it feel more natural?” I release her and look around for her coat. It’s draped over the couch in the reading area. I retrieve it, unfold it, and hold it out for her to slip into.