Page 80 of Before I Loved You

“Wait!” She turns around and grabs a can of whipped cream from the fridge. “You can’t have apple pie without whipped cream.” She places the can in my free hand and gently pushes me toward the end of the hall.

After walking up the stairs, I head toward the guest room and lightly knock on the door. “Hey, Sarah. It’s me.”

There’s no answer.

Maneuvering everything in my hands, I wrap my fingers around the doorknob and nudge it to open the tiniest bit, peeking inside. But the room is empty.

Hmm.

I push the door open and walk inside, heading toward the bathroom. But the door is wide open, and she’s not in there. I spin around, seeing her bag on the floor by the closet, but as I inspect the room closer, I notice a blanket and pillow missing from the bed.

My brows furrow. Where did she go?

I move out of the guest room and look inside my room, but it comes up empty as well. With the pie and bottle of whipped cream still in my hands, I descend the spiral stairs leading to the basement.

When I walk to the other side of the room, I find Sarah curled up on the sofa, watching TV. She sits up when she sees me, appearing guilty. The only thing she’s wearing is one of my oversized T-shirts.

Goddamn.

“Oh, hey…” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear nervously.

Placing the pie and can of whipped cream on the coffee table, I plop myself on the couch beside her. I rest my elbows on my knees and nudge her with my shoulder. “Want to tell me why you’re sleeping here instead of in the guest room?”

She fidgets with the end of the blanket, shaking her head.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” I ask softly.

She slowly nods, her attention solely on the blanket. “I just don’t want to ruin today.”

I nod, understanding. “Okay. Move over.”

She looks up at me. “What?”

“Move over.” With one hand, I reach over my shoulder, whip off my shirt, and stand, unbuttoning my pants and letting them fall to the floor. Sarah’s eyes graze over my body, appearing in a lustful trance.

God, I love it when she looks at me like that.

I slide in behind her and pull her body on top of mine. “That’s better.”

She rests her head on my chest. “This can’t be comfortable for you.”

“Actually, it’s very comfortable.” I enclose my arms around her, my hand splayed over her back, sliding under the T-shirt she’s wearing. I feel a shiver take over her as I glide my hand up and down her smooth skin, warmth seeping through my fingertips. Her tattooed arm on my chest catches my attention, and I can’t help but move my other hand to her wrist, tracing every flower.

“What was the first tattoo you got?” I ask.

She points at the white flower on the inside of her wrist. “On my eighteenth birthday, I went and got a lily tattoo. It…was my mom’s favorite flower. Mine too.” She looks overcome as she says, “This one means the most to me. The rest are just floral designs I liked.”

“I love them.” Lifting her wrist to my lips, I press a kiss on the lily, feeling a slight tremble spread over her.

She nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck. “Thank you for inviting me today. I honestly can’t remember the last time I celebrated Thanksgiving.”

“Really? Not even with your family?” I ask carefully. I had a feeling when she told Natalie she wasn’t going home for Thanksgiving, it was because of her family. Maybe they don’t get along. Or maybe they live far away. But I didn’t want to push her into telling me when the last time I tried to force her into telling me something, she ended up in the middle of the woods having a panic attack.

I’ve realized I just need to tread carefully and be patient with her. Let her come to terms when she’s ready to tell me her secrets.

“I…umm…” She clears her throat. Silence fills the room until she says softly, “I don’t have any family.”

My heart splinters. That’s not what I was expecting.

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