Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(52)

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” I grabbed her hand to stop her from signing again. “It’s late, and we have a date tomorrow night.”

Her eyes grew wide as she yanked her hand from my grasp. “We do not have a date.”

“Yes, we do.”

She huffed and then swung her legs over the side of the bed. True to her word at the gym, she didn’t leave. Her hands fisted the edge of the mattress, and her chin fell to her chest in defeat.

Starting to feel guilty, I looped an arm around her waist and dragged her back against me. “Rocky, listen.”

Her hands started to respond, but I guided them down.

“Don’t talk. Don’t sign. Just listen.”

She rolled her eyes, but her tense body relaxed a fraction.

“Tonight, you told me that, every single day since we met, you’ve been in love with me. It’s been playing on repeat in my head since you said it. Truthfully, I’m not sure I’ll ever forget it. Tomorrow night, on our date”—I shot her a challenging glare and received yet another eye roll—“we’ll deal with all the other crap you threw at me, but tonight, you’re stuck sleeping with me. I’m sorry, but I think fourteen years has been more than enough time alone.”

Her eyes cut to the ceiling. “This… Being here with you… I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. Please, God, don’t be scared.” I flipped to my stomach, draping an arm over her midsection and gliding my palm under her back, forcing her closer to me. Holding us both up on an elbow, I brushed her dark hair away from her face. “We’ll figure this out, I swear. Just give me tonight. Yesterday, I damn near had a nervous breakdown because I could feel you slipping through my fingers. I’ve survived a lot in my life. But that? Losing you? I wouldn’t have recovered.” I pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Then, tonight, I found out that you’ve always been mine. Every. Single. Day.” I kissed her again, breathing in deeply and refusing to exhale.

She didn’t exactly kiss me back, but her hand reassuringly settled on my back. A telling gesture I recognized for the first time. She was uncomfortable as hell—and still comforting me.

That was Liv.

“It’s been a hard twenty-four hours. Just give me, like, eight more of sleeping next to you, and then you can have all day tomorrow to twist shit up in your head. I’ll untangle it”—I paused to smirk—“on our date.”

Her chest rose with a suffering sigh, but she eventually nodded.

“Roll over,” she said.

I flipped to my back, but she pushed at me until I was on my side, facing away from her.

Not a second later, she buried her face in the back of my shirt and folded her arm over my abs. Her knees nudged mine until I bent them and hers shifted in to spoon me.

I twisted my lips, taking in our apparent sleeping position. Not exactly what I’d had in mind, but it was more than she had originally offered.

When her hand pushed the hem of my shirt up and splayed across my bare stomach, I smiled to myself.

Resting my hand on top of hers, I intertwined our fingers. “For the record, you get this tonight because I’m done pushing my luck. But don’t get used to it. This has got to be the most emasculating way possible to sleep. I bet this is how Davenport sleeps with his mommy every night.”

With her hand cradled in mine, she couldn’t respond, but the shake of her body at least let me know she was going to fall asleep with a smile.

We both were.





IT WAS NINE IN THE morning when I pulled into Till and Eliza’s driveway. My car was still at the gym, so I’d had to swipe the keys to one of Quarry’s sports cars. If he could sleep in my bed without asking, surely I could drive his Porsche. And I didn’t give a damn if he wanted to bitch about it later. His cars were his babies. Which made peeling out of the parking lot feel so much better.

I had texted Ash and Eliza for an emergency coffee date this morning. They’d both responded immediately, and since Blakely was home sick from school, we’d agreed to meet at Eliza’s.

“Spill it!” Ash ordered as I flopped down on the barstool at the end of the long, granite island.

“Where’s Blakely?” I asked.

“Till’s watching TV with her in my bedroom. I’m giving them a few minutes together before I have to inform him that his baby girl is not actually sick at all. She started her period.”

“She’s eleven!” I cried, clutching my heart.

“Yeah. He’s going to lose his mind. He nearly had an embolism when he found her training bras a few months ago, so this should push him right on over the edge. But hey, he was the one who wanted a girl so badly. He’s gonna have to find a way to cope.”

Ash set a cup of coffee in front of me. “Ick! I’m so glad we have boys. That is one conversation I never want to have with Flint.”

Eliza slid the cream and sugar my way. “All right. Let’s move on. I need to save my strength to wrestle the chains from Till’s arms when he tries to lock her in her room for the rest of her life. What’s going on with you to warrant an emergency coffee date?”

I would have rather continued to talk about poor Blakely, who was clueless to the terror of adolescence that awaited her.