Sawyer:
Hell yeah you can, hot stuff, you don’t even need to ask.
Asher:
You know you’re always welcome. What’s wrong?
Me:
Just need some time with Shadow and the pack ;)
I feel the corners of my lips tilt up because I already know they’re both laughing at me.
Sawyer:
Of COURSE she likes the puppies better than us.
Asher:
Hell,Ilike the puppies more than us.
Sawyer:
Fair point.
Asher:
Drive safe, we’ll see you soon.
Me:
See you soon.
I put the phone away and continue the drive back to Saints U, trying to shove off the memories that try to overwhelm me on the way. Before all this, I thought I’d just about managed to deal with my grief. With my guilt.
I keep this trauma locked tight in a box way, way back in the back of mind. It’s a box I don’t prod, that I avoid touching at all costs, because even just thinking about it absolutely destroys me. After everything, I just can’t.
Why did she think this was a good idea? Why would she tell me the way she did, and after everything that happened with Iris… She had to know that there was no way on this fucking earth that I was going to be okay with any of this.
I turn my music up loud enough to drown out the thoughts and focus on not crashing on the way to see the boys.
Anything to stop the memories resurfacing.
By the time I pull into their drive, my throat is a little hoarse from singing so loud, but I feel a little lighter. Like the rain cloud that loomed has gone back off into the distance.
I don’t even make it out of the car before Sawyer is at the front door and bounding down the steps to see me. He has the door open before I get a chance and grins at me before pulling me from the car.
“I can walk,” I say with a laugh as I clamber to get my bag. He closes the door once I have it and kisses my cheek.
“You can, but you’re not going to. If I have to give up cuddle time to those damn dogs, I’m going to get some where I can.”
I laugh again, snuggling into his neck. “Makes sense, ‘cause once I cross this threshold, I need to be in a puppy pile.”
He gallops up the stairs, making me laugh louder and cling on tighter to him, before bursting through the front door.
“Honey, I’m hoooooome,” he calls out, and the dogs all rush at us.
“Put me down,” I complain when he keeps me held hostage in his arms. “I already told you the rules.”