Page 334 of Off Limits: The Firsts

Needing a distraction to clear my head, I turn the engine on to leave, but I can’t help myself. I can’t come here and not look when I promised her I would.

So I’m out of the cruiser and across the street in seconds, trying to look inconspicuous as I jog up their pathway to check on the rock garden.

There’s nothing new. At all. It all looks the same, and not just the same, but there has been no new ones added. There’s always new ones added.

I’m not sure if that worries me or if it means things have gotten better.

Things never get better.

Abusers just don’t wake one morning and stop abusing.

I walk back to the car, slide behind the wheel, and watch the light in Keely’s window for a long time while I try to come to terms with all of the shit in my head.

The shit that tells me I need to see Emerson.

The part of me that needs to prove to her that her rules are going to be broken.

One.

By.

One.

Until she sees that sometimes sharing a past means you can build a future together.

It’s a bitch that the only girl I’ve ever really loved is the only one it seems I’ll ever really want.

I’m more determined than ever to prove it to her.

Her rules don’t matter.

Her past doesn’t matter.

It’s just her.

It’s just the now.

And it’s about damn time.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, a little stunned to see him filling the space of my doorway. After his text the other day and our screwy schedules, we hadn’t planned to see each other until tomorrow.

But I more than welcome the sight of him.

“I needed to take a break.”

“A break from what?” I ask as he waltzes right past me as if I invited him in. I look out the front door and around the parking lot, hoping it will help me understand what the hell he is talking about.

“My brothers. Work. Other shit.”

I turn and lean my back against the door I’ve just shut as he strolls over to the couch, drops whatever is in his hands onto it, plops down, and puts his feet up on my coffee table like he owns the place. He picks up the People Magazine on the couch beside him and starts flipping through it without a second thought.

The protest dies momentarily on my lips as I recover from the shock of seeing him. And it’s a good shock. The kind of shock that almost made me jump into his arms, wrap my legs around his waist, and kiss him senseless. It feels like forever since I’ve seen him when, in reality, it’s only been a week.

It’s just because things were unsettled last time he left here, and I’ve had time to think it over and know I overreacted.

That, and the sight of him in that dark blue uniform has put butterflies in my belly and a bang of lust between my thighs.

“Don’t you have your own house to escape to?” I ask as I push off the wall and cross the distance. He watches me, his stare unrelenting as I sit across from him on the edge of the chair.