Page 84 of Roping My Rival
“Heyyy,” I whine. “I paid for that and might need it.”
“Dane.” Warren’s hand is on my cheek, and it feels so good to have his touch on me.
“I like how you feel. My skin likes yours. I missed you.”
A small huff sounds from Warren. “Maybe we should wait to talk when you’re sober.”
“I’m sober enough to understand what you tell me, and I can talk. Not much else, but I can talk.” I inhale deeply, and there it is. “Did you know you always smell like the juiciest tangerines? It’s delicious.”
This time, Warren laughs out loud, and I really hope I get to hear it again. Forever even.
“It’s the body wash Maise bought me for my birthday. I kind of like it.”
“She loves her Uncle Bunny.”
“She does.”
“So do I.” Okay. That’s the whiskey telling me this is a good time to declare my feelings. It’s not a lie, but probably not the best delivery. “It’s true. I love you, and if you’re here, to tell me to fuck off in person because you’re thoughtful like that. I’ll still love you.” I nod my head in a single curt nod. “Just so you know.”
“I’m not here to tell you to fuck off. I’m here to tell you I shared your story with my family and—”
“Oh god, why?” I wish I could fling myself backwards on a mattress right now. How the hell can I look at those people again? Will I ever get to try Gabe’s lasagna again? When did I last eat, anyway? Fuck, I’m hungry. “Did you bring any food with you?”
“I think I have tic tacs in my truck.”
“Oh.”
Warren grabs my hand and kisses it. Damn, that’s like knight-in-shining-armour shit.
“Dane, babe, I needed to tell them so we could help, and we have a plan if you’re on board. I was hoping to explain it to you now, but I don’t think you’re in the shape to follow along.”
I want to talk, I do, but I’m tired and hungry…I think. I could just be tired, but I’m happy Warren is here. He’s still holding my hand!
“I could use some sleep.”
“Let me take you home. We can talk in the morning.”
He hops off the tailgate, and I point to the pile of blankets behind me. “This is home.”
“My home, Dane. You’re coming home with me.”
“Oh.”
Do I always give one-word answers? That doesn’t sound like me. I’m positive I was more eloquent. Or colourful. I do like to swear a lot.
“Don’t drink that shit,” I say as I hop off the truck and wobble when I land. “It’ll fuck you up. I used to talk good.”
Warren wraps an arm around my waist with another laugh.
“Okay, lightweight. Come on. You can sleep it off, and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“Will you hold me while we sleep? I’ve never slept better when you do.”
Warren’s steps falter, and he pulls me closer.
“Yes. I’m never letting you go.”
“Oh.”
