by Gia Riley
“That bad?” I question as I stand up, making sure Laney doesn’t hear me.
“I heard the entire conversation. It was a lot for her to process.”
I’m thankful Vanessa was free this morning, because I’d never have let Megan confront Connor by herself. Not after seeing all he’s capable of.
Still, I can’t help being a little jealous Vanessa was there to hear exactly what Megan’s dealing with. Even the slightest insight could help me figure out what Megan needs to hear from me right now because I’m clueless about how she’s feeling.
I pause in the doorway, and Megan’s forehead is against the front of the stainless steel fridge. Her hand is squeezing the handle so hard, her knuckles are turning white. She’s simply trying to catch her breath. A basic need I take for granted has become pure torture for her.
“I need a minute, Garrett,” she tells me when I’m close enough to reach out and hold her. It’s all I want to do, but when I try to touch her, she pulls her hand out from beneath mine.
After she rejects me, my instinct is to push for answers. That won’t make this any easier for her though. Forcing her to talk won’t make her confidence return, and it won’t make her any happier. I need to wait it out and let her tell me what happened when she’s ready.
Trying to think of something that will make her smile, I go in a different direction. “Do you always give Laney lottery cards?”
I see her racking her brain, trying to figure out what I’m talking about. Then, she makes sense of it. “I put them in the wrong stocking, didn’t I?”
I nod and laugh. “She thinks they’re pretty cool.”
“I can’t even get that right. The tickets were for you,” she says a little defeated. “I thought they’d make you remember your Bingo days.”
The tickets weren’t a mistake. They were perfect, and a sweet reminder of my grandmother. “I knew they were meant for me, Megs. The Bingo was a dead giveaway.”
A hint of a smile tugs on the corners of her mouth. “Bingo was kind of your thing.”
“I’m surprised you remember.”
She pulls a bowl out from under the island and reaches for the eggs inside the fridge. “I remember more than you think. And I noticed a lot, too.”
“Ditto,” I tell her.
“I just felt bad you had such a weak stomach. All those trips to the bathroom and all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She keeps mixing the ingredients in the bowl, well aware that I’m full of shit. “So, none of those trips past the Chief’s office were to see me?”
“Look at me, babe.”
She lifts her head to look at me—to really look at me. She’s not seeing the doctor who helped save her daughter’s legs, or the guy who used to take his crazy grandma to Bingo. She’s seeing me—and remembering what we shared last night.
Suddenly, the countertop separating us feels like a football field. Moving closer because the urge to touch her is so strong, I hold out my hand, praying she takes it this time.
For a brief second, she just stares at my fingers, unable to move one way or another. Stuck in this limbo between happiness with me and hell with Connor, she lets me inch closer until her back is up against the fridge.
When she’s out of room and has no place else to go, she slithers down the front of the cool steel until her ass hits the floor.
I crouch down in front of her, realizing we need to get back to the talk she had with Connor. She needs to get it all out of her system before it eats away at her more than it already has. “Talk to me, Megan. Tell me what happened.”
She rests her chin on the tops of her knees, and says, “He confessed. It’s exactly what I needed him to do. I thought maybe after I heard him and understood his reasoning I would have been able to come to terms with it.”
“But you can’t?”
She shrugs. “In his warped mind, lying to me made complete sense. If I’m honest, I can even see where he was coming from, but it was still so wrong and disrespectful. I can’t forgive him.”
“Not everyone deserves a second chance. He’s taken enough from you, Megan. It has to stop.”
“Stopping means goodbye, Garrett.”
“That’s not what you want?”
“I don’t want Connor, but never speaking to him, or seeing him again, I can’t imagine what that would be like. I’m not trying to contradict myself, but I barely remember my life before I met him. How am I supposed to picture a life without him?”
I look away because it’s still so hard to hear her say those things. Finally, I have my girl right in front of me, and she’s more worried about letting go than holding onto me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.
But I’ve never had a relationship like hers. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to have poured every bit of who you are into someone else, only to find out it was all a lie. I’d want justice, but I’d probably want some satisfaction, too.
“Tell me how I can make it better for you, Megan. I feel helpless.”
“I think you’re already doing it.”
“What do you mean?” I can’t figure out if she means right now, here in the kitchen, or if she’s talking about last night. I want it to be both—because I’m trying so hard to make us stronger.
“All of it. Thank you. If you hadn’t stayed with Laney, I would have had to take her with me, and I couldn’t have done that. Connor’s still too out of control for her to be around him.”
“I told you I’ll do whatever it takes. You don’t have to thank me for helping you.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “But I probably still will.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
“I’m fine. I actually think it’s because of you.”
“Me?” I ask her, not following.
Smiling the slightest bit, she blushes. “You saw me naked. We did things.”
“I make you nervous?”
“Sometimes,” she admits, honestly. “You’re you, Garrett.”
Leaning forward I wrap my hands around her legs and pull her entire body across the floor until she’s nestled between my legs. I can’t tell of it’s the anticipation of me touching her, or if it’s just her nerves, but I desperately want to be the reason her beautiful body is trembling.
My arms are barely around her when she rests her cheek against my chest. Kissing the top of her head, I’m thankful to have her back. It was killing me knowing she was with Connor and I had no control over what he said to her or how he made her feel. All I could do was sit and wait with Laney and pray she came back to me in one piece.
“You never have to be nervous around me, Megan. I love your body, and I need to be your safe place. The person you go to first—and the person you need the most.”
“You are that for me. Maybe I don’t always talk right away, but sometimes I need a little time to process how I’m feeling. It’s not me trying to shut you out. It’s me trying to deal.”
“As long as this is where you end up, I can work with that. Now tell me what else happened.”
“It’s pretty simple. He threw shit. He begged,” she says with a steadier voice now that I’m holding her. “I thought I had it all, Garrett. Everything I ever wanted was under one roof and it was never meant to be mine. How fucked up is that?”
As hard as it is for me to admit, I tell her, “It may seem like it, but your time with Connor wasn’t a waste. You grew up together. You made mistakes together. And now he’s freaking the fuck out because he realizes he did have it all. But he lost the two best things to ever happen to him.”
“Why did he have to lose me to see it though?”
“He didn’t. He knew it all along. That’s why he did everything he could to keep me away from you—including marrying you the first chance he got. He didn’t want someone else to take you away from him. And I always had the power to do that.”
“You really believe that?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s not
me being arrogant, either. I’d have done just about anything to have a tenth of what you gave him during your relationship.”
She cranes her neck to look up at me. Her eyes are a little less empty, though filled with tears again. It makes me feel like an asshole for making her cry. “Don’t, Megs. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I’m saying you gave him every ounce of your mind, body, and soul. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I’m trying to get my head on straight. I do want you, Garrett. I’m sorry if you feel like I don’t.”
I tap the back of my head against the side of the island, annoyed that my words are coming out all wrong. “I’m really screwing this up.”
“You kind of are,” she says with a laugh.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Just know that as long as I’m what you want, you can have all the time you need. We finally found each other, there’s no rush to get here anymore.”
She looks away from me, probably because she’s never had to deal with the urgency I’ve felt. She never had to sit back and watch.
Surprising me, she lifts her hand and places it against my chest. “I feel your heart beating, Garrett. I feel everything it wants to give me. I promise.”
It feels so good to hold her and to hear her say that. If her sister and Laney weren’t in the other room, I’d take her right here on the kitchen floor. I’d erase Connor from her mind completely and have a hell of a lot of fun in the process.
But as expected, our time alone is short lived.
“Psst,” Vanessa says from the doorway. “I see some feet. Please tell me you aren’t naked.”
Megan’s laughter bounces her against my chest. “Get in here, Vanessa. We’re just talking.”
Vanessa rounds the corner and takes one look at us. Given the circumstances, she just smiles. “Don’t mind me, but your kid is hungry.”
I help Megan to her feet, even helping her dust a few stray crumbs off her ass. That earns me an eye roll from Vanessa. It’s not my fault I’m thorough in all things.
“Go sit with Laney,” I tell Megan. “I’ll figure out breakfast with Vanessa.”
She hesitates for a second, chewing on her lip like she thinks it’s her job to cook for everyone. I hate that it’s probably always been that way for her.
“Okay,” she finally says. “But let Vanessa handle the stove.”
I run my thumb over her pouty bottom lip. If she wasn’t so damn sexy I’m sure I’d have something to say back to her. But this connection and the way she makes me feel like I’m on top of the world, well I’ve waited a lifetime for this—and I’m not about to mess that up.
If I have to take cooking lessons to take some of the burden off of her, I’ll do it. I’m not about to let her down over stupid pancakes or eggs. It’s time the man in her life got it right.
It’s time to rewrite the ending.
Megan
ANOTHER WEEK GOES BY, THE New Year comes and goes, and Laney’s progress continues to improve. Despite worrying what her classmates will say about her casts and wheelchair, Laney’s optimistic about going back to school tomorrow.
Garrett somehow managed to convince my little girl she was better because of it. And for that, I’m beyond grateful for the connection they have.
As the clock inches toward midnight, I sit in my favorite spot in the house with Garrett’s journal in my hands. Every night since we connected on Christmas Eve, he’s left me a surprise on one of the pages.
Sometimes he writes about how much he appreciates me. Other nights, it’s about life in general, or a simple quote to reflect on.
I still haven’t figured out when he sneaks in my room to write to me, but each night after I put Laney to bed, there’s always a new message waiting. And now that the house is quiet, I can have a peaceful moment alone with just his words.
Tonight’s entry is different than most of the others, because in as little as five sentences, he tells me what he wants to do to my body. How much he wants to taste me. And how much he needs to be inside me.
It’s all laid out—plain and simple, and my heart races as I read each line again and again. I devour his words like he would devour my body.
Ever since I found this journal, his secrets have run deep. Now, his desires are even dirtier and I wouldn’t want him any other way.
He’s let me take my time and given me the reigns to set whatever pace I’m comfortable with, never once pressuring me for more. My head’s been in so many places, I haven’t been able to give him my undivided attention the way he deserves.
But the nights we’ve spent apart, I’ve realized time is never going to make what Connor did to us hurt less. It’ll always hurt because he’s Laney’s biological father. He’s the boy I fell in love with when I was still learning what love was, and you never forget your first.
Thing is, I don’t want my first to keep me from my last—and I’m positive that’s what Garrett could be for me.
After wasting years with the wrong one, time remains fragile. It’s been a hard lesson to learn, but I can’t turn back the clock, and I want to hold onto what I have now, cherish it, and move forward.
That’s why I glance at Garrett’s entry one last time before shutting the journal and placing it back on the shelf. I’ll never forget how empowered I feel tonight as I slide my pajama pants down my legs and step out of them.
Wearing only my tank top and panties, I walk past my comfy bed where I’ve been spending most of my nights, instead taking a detour down the hallway, directly into the arms of the man who treasures me.
I’m done wasting time. I want him as much as I need him.
After what Garrett wrote tonight, I expect him to be waiting for me with his back against the headboard and his feet crossed on top of the covers, just like he was on Christmas Eve. There’s something so sexy about a man’s bare chest and bare feet.
But when I open his door and peek my head inside, the light is off and I’m pretty sure Garrett’s already asleep.
It’s confirmed when I’m closer and can hear him softly snoring. Not wanting to wake him, I lift the blanket and sheet, sliding underneath. The fabric is cool enough that I shiver, but as soon as I remember what it’s like to be tucked under his arm, and how it feels to wake up next to him, I warm up quickly.
Inching closer, I rest my head in the crook of his arm and cuddle into his side where I feel the most at peace and the safest.
He senses me right away, opening his eyes and holding me tighter. “I’m glad you came,” he whispers as he kisses my forehead.
After spending a long week of nights alone, just being this close to Garrett while wearing so little makes my pulse hammer. All I can think about are the words from the journal, and I’m positive I’ll explode if he doesn’t touch me.
“What changed, Megs?” he asks between soft pecks on my lips.
I could tell him it was what he wrote, but that wouldn’t have been him changing. He’s made it clear from day one I’m what he wants. That’s why I tell him, “I have.”
“I like that answer,” he says with a content smile.
“I didn’t mean to make you wait so long.”
In reality a week isn’t long, but when you’re in a new relationship, it feels like an eternity. However, the next time I came into this bed, I wanted to be lighter—to not have the weight of the world strangling me.
“I told you to take all the time you needed.”
“You did,” I tell him with a smile as I raise my head and look into his eyes. “I missed this, Garrett.”
“Tell me what you miss.”
“You. Us. It’s been hard to stay away.”
He glances at the clock and chuckles. “You just found my message, didn’t you?”
My throat’s dry as I try to swallow. “Yeah, I read what you wrote.”
I can still remember the lettering of each word—the way he presses hard when the pen starts each new sentence and then trails the ink lightly behind the last letter as he ends it. Even his
writing is unique.
“I’m glad you’re here, but I promise I didn’t say those things to get you back in my bed.”
“I’ve never felt pressured, Garrett. You’re not like that. What changed for you though? Why was tonight’s entry so different from the others?”
He runs his hands up and down my back, and his fingers come so close to my breast, my nipple hardens. On the way back down, he gets just as close to my ass. Finally, after I’m covered in goose bumps, he says, “Because I want you. I always want you, Megs.”
“But you didn’t think I’d come, did you?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, because last time you were waiting for me. This time, you were asleep.”
Cupping my jaw, he presses his lips against mine, softly at first, and then sweeps his tongue against mine. Even though we both want more, he pulls away from me, smiling when he says, “I shut the light off and got ready for bed, hoping as soon as you read it, you’d end up right where you are. My tired ass just fell asleep too fast.”
I’m absorbing his words, wishing I could come up with the perfect thing to say to him, but I’m not good at initiating what I want. I never have been. And I hate that about myself because he deserves so much more than I’m giving him.
He mistakes my hesitation for apprehension and says, “It’s okay, Megs. No expectations, remember?”
I love that he’s not expecting me to act a certain way or to give him something specific. He’s content with me. But he did write sexy things. Things I can’t stop thinking about giving to him and letting him have. “Garrett.”
“What do you want, Megan?” he asks as he holds my face in the palm of his hand. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
The tender gesture gives me the little push I need to tell him, “I want you to do the things you wrote about. All of them.”
He lets out the sexiest growl I’ve ever heard. It hits me so deep in the gut that I jump when he reaches under the blanket and slides his hand between my legs.
Before I can even blink, I’m on my back and he’s on his hands and knees, hovering over the top of me. His fingers travel the length of my body, sliding over my hips, across my thighs, all the way down to my ankles.
