Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(61)

He nods. His chest rises as he sucks in a deep breath. “I’ll be honest here—I didn’t know whether to wake you up today or not. I just … my whole family was there, and they’re a lot to deal with and—”

“Peck. It’s fine.”

He lights up. “Really? Because I really thought I’d probably fucked up. And the longer I went and didn’t call you or text you, the worse I figured it was. But I just … I didn’t know what to do.”

I rearrange myself on the couch so my feet are on the floor. I tug a pillow onto my lap for a flimsy guard to my ego and heart.

“Nana asked about you,” he says. “She was kind of pissed you didn’t come.”

Well, I wasn’t asked.

“That’s nice,” I say. “I’m glad she likes me.”

“That’s for sure.”

He holds my gaze. I think he’s as unsure of what to say as I am. So I jump right in. Might as well.

“I get what last night was,” I say.

“You do?”

I nod. “And I don’t expect you to want to drag me in front of your family because we slept together. I’m a big girl, Peck. I didn’t read into it.” Ish.

“No. No, no, no,” he says. He moves to the edge of the chair. His elbows rest on his knees. “You’re wrong. That’s not it at all.”

My body still as I take in the seriousness in his face. I’m afraid to reply—to say anything at all—in case I just misinterpreted that.

He blows out a breath and smiles. But it’s a gesture that’s not made to ease my mind, but a sign that he’s trying to get himself together.

“Let me ask you this,” he says. “Do you think yesterday changed anything between us?”

I consider his question. “Well, I know now that you can deliver an a-plus orgasm.”

He grins.

I grin too.

“I’m glad that we still have this,” he says, looking relieved. “I was afraid we’d messed this up somehow.”

“Me too.” I set the pillow to the side. “I’ve worried all day about it. And then you didn’t call and stuff and I—”

“That was my mistake. I’m sorry. I should’ve.” He clears his throat. “I just want you to know, without a doubt, that last night … well, it meant something to me. I don’t know what, exactly. I’m still a little confused, to be honest. But I … there’s … you know.”

I do know. I think. And it’s how I feel too. But hearing him admit that out loud, his voice so earnest, does something to me—something deep and powerful.

I smile and try not to blush.

“Thank you for saying that,” I say. “But you don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything.”

He sits back in his chair again. “I believe that. I actually think you owe me at this point.”

“What?” I laugh.

“Well, I bought an expensive set of pots and pans because of you. I’m renting you a room in my house—and a bathroom. And you got off … four? Five times yesterday? You clearly are in debt to me.”

My shoulders fall as the tension that’s built all day melts away. “I don’t pay my debts. Just so you know.”

“Oh, thanks for telling me now.” He winks. “But seriously, I’m sorry if I made things weird today. It was just … a weird day.”

I nod, mulling that over. My gaze goes back to the television, and I act like I know what’s going on. Really, I just want a minute to decipher what he said.

It was just a weird day.

What does that mean?

“My brother announced today that he and Sawyer are moving home,” Peck says.

“That’s great. Are you happy?”

“Yeah. Sawyer is a cute little shit. I’m excited to get to show him the ropes.”

“You mean make him ornery?”

Peck laughs. “Oh, he’s already ornery. I had no part in that.”

I watch his face light up. He seems completely energized and over the moon about Vincent’s news. It makes my heart happy.

It’s not hard to imagine Peck running around with a little kid as a sidekick. The idea makes me grin.

“I bet you’re a great uncle,” I say.

“I hope I am. I didn’t really have that level of family growing up. I had Walker’s dad, but he was always working at the shop, so I didn’t see him much. And he was pretty standoffish when it came to things like life lessons. You just kind of knew what he expected … and also knew he’d stick a boot in your ass if you didn’t follow along.”

I laugh.

He rests his elbows on his knees again. His head is free from a hat, which doesn’t seem to happen often. His hair looks like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times today, and I wish I could reach out and take a turn.

“How was Nana today?” I ask.

“She was good. Great, actually, since Vincent told he they’re staying in town.” He sighs happily. “Being there and watching her with us boys was pretty special. It’s … what matters in life, I think.”

He turns slowly, lifting his eyes to mine. Our gazes connect like two superheroes colliding above a battlefield.