Page 155 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
manating off every word—makes it hard for me to think.
“We’ll make it work. It’s only temporary. Hopefully, this will be a flight school and I can come back and figure out a new dream to chase, but in the meantime, it’s only two hours away. There are days off and phone calls and FaceTime. We’ll make it work.” I’m pretty much begging for him to believe me, but the look on his face says he’s not convinced.
“It isn’t the same, and you know it.”
“I know, but it’s doable.”
“What if I told you that you’re not going? That I’m not going to let you go.”
Every part of me surges with his words, already knowing he wants me to stay but still needing to hear it. I chuckle. “Then I’d tell you that you know me well enough to know the quickest way to get me to do something is to tell me I can’t.”
“Is it that hard for you to need someone, Em? Is it that hard for you to need me?”
“No.” I’m just so conditioned not to need anything from anyone that my heart twists at the lie buried under all the truth in that one word.
“Then need me, damn it. Use me.” I watch the hurt manifest itself to anger. “Stay at my house. Live with me while we figure this out. Do anything but run away because running away is the chicken shit way to deal with this situation.”
There’s the second time in ten minutes I’ve been called that.
“I’m not running, Grant.”
“You sure about that?” His eyes bore into mine as everything about him screams defeat.
“I’m sure.”
“Good, then you won’t mind if I do this,” he says as he steps forward and, before I can even process what he’s doing, slaps a handcuff on my wrist and the other on his. “See? It’s that simple. You’re not going.”
And just as quickly as my heart breaks, my temper fires. “Are you kidding me? What are you doing?”
“Did you really think I was going to let you go without a fight? I’ve lost you once before, Em. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to let it happen again.” Every part of me melts at his words and wants to surrender right here, right now to whatever he asks. I remember the emptiness I felt when I left him before. I remember how lonely I was, and I don’t want that ever again.
“So, you’re going to handcuff me?” I shriek, eyes wide and disbelief reigning. Amid the stubborn anger I have rioting inside me, a small piece of me wants to laugh at him. This is so us that it’s ridiculous. But I can’t. I won’t. At least not outwardly.
“This is just insurance to make sure you’re true to your word.”
“My word?”
“That you’re not running. So see?” He holds our hands up. “Now you can’t.”
I try to yank my hand away and am met with the bite of cold steel. The smirk he gives me and the feel of the metal is fuel to my temper. “The harder you fight against me, the closer I’m going to pull you.”
“Let me go.” Doesn’t he know he’s won?
He takes a step into me so his face is inches from mine, and as angry as I am at him, all I see are his lips. All I can think about is losing him. “This isn’t how a relationship works, Emerson. You don’t get to decide for yourself anymore. You talk to me. We discuss. Sometimes we fight. But in the end, we decide—together. Simple as that.”
“And you think kidnapping me is the right way to go about that?” Despite the bite of pain I know it will cause, I yank my hand again, but this time it’s more for show than out of anger. The look in his eyes and the determination in his words . . . how could a sane girl walk away from a man that resolute in his love for her?
“No, but apparently, it’s the only way when it comes to reasoning with you.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Do you think it’ll be weird brushing our teeth like this? Or how about going to the bathroom. That might cause some problems.” He chuckles and walks over to the couch without telling me so I’m forced to trail behind as he sits and puts his feet on the coffee table. “I could get used to this, couldn’t you?” Then he gets back up and walks to the windows overlooking the backside of the airstrip, forcing me to follow again. He turns one way to pull me and then back the other way.
“You’re infuriating, you know that?” I say, trying to stand my ground when I’m not really sure what we are fighting about anymore. “We’re talking about the same thing here.”
“No. We’re not. You’re talking about going, and I’m talking about you staying. That’s as different as night and day.”
“It would be temporary.”
“I don’t do temporary. See?” he says, lifting our hands again. “I like sure things.”
“I am not running,” I grit out. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to lose the loan and have to leave. I wanted roots for the first time in forever. I want you damn it. That’s all I really want. You and my jump school. That’s it. So, stop turning this on me. Stop acting as if this is all about me. I love you, and as much as that scares the shit out of me, not having you terrifies me even more. You win. Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll stay.” I heave in a huge breath because I used it all. When I look at him, he’s blurry because tears are in my eyes, and I don’t care. This . . . he and I . . . is what matters.
