I squash the urge to hide the moment of vulnerability behind a shroud. Instead, I let her see the raw parts of me when I give her an open look.
Blair works herself up, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry for what I said about your parents.” With a hesitant motion, she reaches across and presses her fingers to my shoulder. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” My voice comes out hoarse. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel like that. I was an asshole.” I hold my hand out, offering it to her to take. She glances down. “If you want. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I’m crazy about you and I want us to be together.”
Blair grasps my hand tightly. Her touch is like a balm to my raw soul. It’s the first I’ve felt grounded in days. A rough sound leaves me and Blair makes an answering soft sound as she clutches my hand.
In a gruff voice, I ask, “Where to?”
“Hmm?”
With my other hand resting on top of the wheel, I gesture a few lights ahead. One direction takes us up the mountain and the other winds through the valley toward the trailer park.
“Home.” The piercing look she sends my way tugs at my heartstrings.
“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Blair.”
She squeezes my hand. “I mean it. I don’t want to be alone tonight. Home is when I’m with you.”
A soft smile curves my lips. My fractured stone heart fuses back together one jagged edge at a time. “Okay. Home it is.”
Forty-Four
Devlin
It’s surreal when we get back to the house. My hand hovers at the small of Blair’s back as we enter through the garage. It’s something we’ve done a hundred times when she lived with me, leaving a bittersweet twinge in my bones.
Blair showers and comes into my bedroom, where I wait for her. She’s wearing one of my henley shirts. The gray shirt is loose on her, the top button open, the sleeves bunched up, and the neckline hanging precariously from one shoulder. It hits her mid-thigh and the top of her bra peeks out.
It takes an absurd amount of willpower to keep my hands to myself when all I ache to do is wrap Blair up and tuck her back in my heart, where she belongs.
Dragging in a breath, I erase the distance between us. “Feel better?”
“So much.” Her mouth pulls into a lopsided smile. “Now that I’m out of the slammer, I’m like a new woman. I’m thinking about writing a memoir on the lessons prison taught me.”
I chuckle, cupping her shoulders to bring her closer. It feels right to have her back in my room. I need to keep her this time. I’ll do everything to be worthy enough to deserve her.
A loud growl sounds. Blair scrunches her nose, bunching the freckles scattered across the bridge. She covers her stomach with one hand. “How do you feel about ordering something? I didn’t eat dinner.”
An amused sound huffs out of me. “I’ll go order and pick it up.” I drop a soft kiss on her temple. “I’ll be back soon. I have a couple of things to take care of.”
Before I make it far, Blair tugs on my shirt with a vulnerable sound. “Wait.”
There’s a need in her eyes. It answers the matching one in my chest. Without words, we come together, both of us pulling until our lips connect in a tender kiss.
The world rights itself. Kissing Blair fills the empty cavern in my chest. Both of us release desperate sounds as we clutch each other. I want nothing more than to deepen the kiss, lay her down in my bed, and make her feel good. First, there’s something I have to do.
“Wait for me. I’ll be back soon.”
* * *
On my way back from the clinic, I dial Dad’s number. He better pick up. I haven’t called or texted him since Thanksgiving, uninterested in trying to pretend we have a father-son relationship worth recovering.
At the clinic, the receptionist stared at me with wide eyes as she copied my information to Macy’s file from my license. “Murphy as in…” Her features stretched with her silent question.
“Yes.” I signed the form for electronic payment authorization to pay the outstanding balance to keep Macy at New Horizons.
Dad actually answers the phone with a clipped, “Hello?”