Page 33 of Tell Me Again

God, I hate myself right now.

I close my eyes and continue holding her, and then I hesitate for just a second before kissing the top of her head again. After all, do I really have the right to touch her like that anymore? But she doesn’t resist or pull away.

And I decide I’ll have to say it, because she really is too nice to. “I’ll, um, just... I should probably go. I mean, I’ll give you whatever space you need, and...”

This time it’s me who can’t finish. But her hand reaches up to settle on my cheek, and when our eyes meet, I see a plea. I see love and a gentle plea.

“Please don’t go. I-I’m not ready for...” Her voice is trembling, and she shakes her head lightly. Then she closes her eyes and smiles softly through her tears. “Please stay and just... hold me? Just for tonight. And we can figure out what to do about everything else in the morning.”

I nod as I cover her hand with mine, and then I turn my head just enough to press a kiss to her palm. “Yeah, yeah. Of course,” I say quietly. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter Thirteen

Coop

It’s fucking cold, and my fucking truck won’t start. And given that it’s Wednesday morning—the one day of the week where if I’m late, Mel might really actually fire me—I’m pretty much fucking screwed.

I slam the driver’s door closed with another curse and then pull my cell phone out of my pocket and start making phone calls. Mel first. Then Angie. Then reluctantly Chuck. But given that it’s not even five thirty yet, I shouldn’t be surprised when no one answers.

Fuck. I shove the phone back in my pocket, pull my coat around me, and start off down my driveway. I’m gonna have to walk. Shit, at this point, if I want any chance of getting to work on time, I’m gonna have to run.

I’m all for running as a hobby. Just not two and a half fucking miles at fucking five fifteen in the morning. Fucking truck.

My hands are already aching from the cold by the time I get to the end of the driveway and start down the road, but I pull my phone back out, open up the recent calls list, and click on Mel’s number again. Maybe she’ll answer this time so I can at least tell her I’ll be late and beg her not to fire me. Goddamn fucking truck.

The phone starts ringing, and I stuff my free hand in my pocket as I pick up my pace, walking briskly toward town.

After about three rings, when I’m certain it’s about to go to voicemail again and I can just kiss my job goodbye, there’s a click and a cough, and then a muffled, very sleepy, very sexy male voice says, “Hello?”

Shit.

I stop dead in my tracks and pull the phone away from my ear for a second. Shit, that’s not Mel’s number. That’s not even close to Mel’s number. What the fuck?

I close my eyes and slowly bring the phone back to my ear, trying and failing miserably to suppress a groan.

“Josh, hey. Shit, I’m sorry to wake you up. I must have hit the wrong number. I was trying to call Mel because my truck won’t start and I’m gonna be late, and—and shit, man, I’m sorry.”

There’s some rustling, and then he says, “Oh, yeah, no problem. I, uh, I can give you a ride if you want. Let me just throw on some clothes and—”

“No, no, no, that’s, uh, that’s okay. I can’t...”

That would help me so much. But I can’t ask that of him. I mean, it’s not even five thirty in the morning and he’s on vacation and—shit, I just lost another minute. I start walking again.

“Where are you?”

“Where—huh?”

“Where are you? Does your shift start at five thirty? I can pick you up, and then maybe you won’t be late.”

“Um, I... You—you don’t have to do that. I’m just... It’s just a couple miles. I can walk. I’m already walking. It’s—”

“Coop, where are you?”

“Uh, I’m...” Shit. I glance back over my shoulder toward my dilapidated old shack of a house and then forward again. And my breath freezes as I let out a huff of air. Fuck, I’m cold. And I will be late, even if I could convince myself to sprint the whole way. And even though it’s probably a terrible idea, I’m totally going to let him come pick me up. “I’m about two and a half miles west on Route 6.”

“I’m on my way. Be there in just a few minutes,” he says. There’s no hesitation, no frustration or reservation or... anything.

“O-okay. Uh, thanks.”

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