Page 74 of I Still Love You

“Was I an early bird when I walked up to you in that coffee shop?”

I giggle. “Not at all.”

“Exactly,” he mumbles, squeezing my side gently. “Now go back to sleep. I’m not ready to let you get up yet.” I rub my nails over his arm, from his elbow to his wrist. I don’t miss the sense of safety he provides. Nor do I push away the intense gratitude.

This is it. This is what my life would look like if I hadn’t left.

I wonder if Luke has the same thoughts, if what we’re doing looks oddly close to what he pictured our future would look like. If he—

My phone vibrates on his nightstand, and I’m quick to reach for it, pressing the button at the side to silence the notification. I enter my password and swipe my notification bar down, noticing an email from Aubrey titled urgent.

“Who the hell is calling you,” he lifts his head to check the time on his old-fashioned alarm clock, then nuzzles into the pillow again, “at 5:27 in the morning?”

I click into my email app and open Aubrey’s email. My stomach curls into a ball of distress. One paragraph in, and it’s clear why his email is so urgent. It’s that time again. My contract with Regional is coming to an end. Traveling nurse gigs have become a sensation in the past few months, apparently, and there aren’t many openings available.

If I want to lock in a solid position after, I’m going to need to submit it to Aubrey as soon as possible—his words. My stomach twists. The last time Aubrey locked in a contract for me, I ended up here.

I skim through the few listings he includes in the email, seeing there’s nothing close. Staying in Quaint wasn’t ever on the table, but my mom and sisters are here. I’ve made solid relationships with girls at work. And Luke and I are good. Well, we’re okay right now. I’m afraid if I break the news of leaving, it’ll take us five steps back. I nibble at the corner of my mouth and turn my head to get a glimpse of him.

I can’t ruin what we’re rebuilding. Our foundation is still rocky, with bricks still missing. I want to be here to fix that, to repair the damage I caused. Then again, he wanted me to leave. He told me to go and never return. Does he still want that? He can’t, can he?

After we ate lazy tacos—taco meat on top of broken tortilla chips with tomatoes and onions—last night, he brought me up to his room and made love to me. I know that’s what it was. He was slow and deliberate and made sure we finished at the same time. We connected on a different level than we did in that conference room.

If he still wanted me gone, would he have done that, opened himself to me?

Luke’s arm dragging across my stomach snaps me back, causing me to blink a handful of times before I lock my phone and set it down. “Sorry, did you say something?”

There’s exhaustion in his stare as he opens his lids, but the green is as magnificent as always, and it only makes me feel worse because I don’t want to leave this—us—again. I also don’t want to risk my future for someone if that person doesn’t want me back.

“I thought someone was calling you,” he tells me, moving to splatter kisses along the crest of my breast. “Not gonna lie, I almost lost it,” he jokes, looking up at me with hunger in his gaze.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

He flicks his tongue at my nipple. “Am I? Is it too much to want you all to myself?”

I quirk a brow, arching my back when he closes his mouth over me, his teeth softly biting into the sensitive skin. “Is that what you want? Me to yourself?”

“I’ve always wanted you, Lay. Hasn’t that been obvious?” He tugs at my nipple once more, inducing a delicious stinging sensation that spreads over my breast.

“Yes, and no. You hated me two weeks ago. Forgive me if I’m not as confident as you are about your feelings.”

He kisses his way over to my other breast, teasing it like he did the first. “Fair enough.” He moves his hand up my stomach and grasps me before moving his mouth up to mine. Whispering, he pleads, “Forgive me.”

I run my fingers through the longer strands of his hair. “I already have,” I answer honestly. “It’s just, I don’t know what’s happening here, Luke. Every time I feel like I get my footing and know what’s going on between us, the ground shifts, and I feel differently.”

“I don’t want you to feel different,” he says, “I want you to feel sure.” His brows knit together, his gorgeous eyes staring into my soul. Placing his hand over where my heart thumps, he says, “Does it feel like your heart wants to break out of your chest when you’re with me? When you’re away from me, do you miss me? I missed you so fucking much when you were gone. Do you feel that, too?”

“God, yes, Luke. How could I not? I swear with everything I am that you meant so much to me. I think part of the reason I didn’t come back was that I didn’t want to face one of my biggest mistakes. If I had come back any sooner, it would’ve killed me.”

“Do you still feel that way? Guilty? Ashamed?”

Bringing my hand down, I rub my thumb over the shell of his ear. “I think I’ve worked through most of it. It helps to have you here, hearing your thoughts and how you feel. Knowing you can actually stand having a civil conversation with me.”

“I never, not for one day, stopped loving you, Layla. And you don’t need to reply to that, but I want you to know. No more guilt, okay? You did what you had to, and now you’re back. That’s all that matters.”

“So, the deal is officially off then?” I tease, but I’m desperate to see if he still wants me gone. I have my future to think about, and if there’s even an ounce of doubt on his face, I need to know, even if he just claimed his love for me. Now is the moment that could make or break us. It could have me driving out of Quaint for good or sticking around to see where this goes.

“I regret saying that to you,” he admits. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

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