Page 96 of Bull Rush

“Come here,” I whisper, motioning for him to turn around.

“I’m fine.” He stands up straighter, apparently worried I might judge him for not being numb in the wake of the day’s events.

“I know you are,” I reassure him, and he turns reluctantly, letting me wrap my arms around his middle. I press a kiss to the center of his chest, and he leans down to kiss the top of my head. We stand like that, just holding each other for a few minutes before I step back, grabbing the teak chair that’s pressed up against the wall. “Sit.” I pat the seat, and he looks up at me, perplexed and frowning. “Just trust me.”

He complies, slowly sitting down and dwarfing the small bench, adjusting once or twice like he’s afraid he might break it before he finally settles down. I grab my shampoo bottle and pour a small amount into my palm, lathering it up between my hands before I start to run it through his hair. He freezes up at first like I’m taking too many liberties with him. But as my fingers massage his scalp and I drag my nails gently down the nape of his neck, he relaxes into my touch. His eyes close, and he leans back as I work the strands up into a bubbly lather.

“Keep them closed,” I say softly as I reach for the handheld, turning it on to a gentle setting. I slowly rinse the suds from his scalp, cupping my hand around his ears and eyes as I go. I watch as some of the tension in his shoulders goes lax, and they fall an inch and then two by the time I’m done.

I move to the bodywash next. I don’t think when I grab it off the small ledge, putting my harvest apple scent into my hands and then onto the washcloth instead of his woodsier version. I swear softly and go to wash it off, but he grabs my wrist and looks upat me.

“Leave it,” he whispers and nods to the cloth.

I work just as carefully as I did with the shampoo, sudsing his neck and shoulders and moving down his back. I pause at intervals to make sure I’ve tackled all the spots that are extra dirty, stained with blood or grime from the aftermath of the day.

He holds still for my ministrations, allowing me to move and position his limbs as I need, and standing as I start to move over his lower back and his butt and thighs. I move to his front, working down his legs and knees, all the way down to his ankles and feet, making sure I cover every single inch of him.

When I finish, I toss the washcloth to the side and pull him close, placing my hand over his heart as I feel his body shudder. I look up, and there are tears in his eyes again, only this time they fall.

“I’m sorry.” He mouths the words, and I press my lips together, my eyebrows softening as I study him.

“Don’t ever apologize to me for loving your family and wanting to keep them safe. You don’t owe anyone an apology for that. Least of all me. If anything, Ramsey, I love you more for it.”

“Do you love me? After everything?” He can barely bring himself to ask the question. “I’m so fucking scared of losing you, sugar. So terrified of dragging you into this miserable life of mine, one you didn’t ask for. One that keeps asking more and more of you, even when it’s taken everything from us already.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not in this life or the next.” I lift my eyes to meet his because I want him to hear the next bit, really hear it. “And it could take everything else from me, as long as the two of us are still standing at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.” I rise onto my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips, one that takes him off guard. His eyes open wide, and he blinks for a moment.

“Let me melt the ice away, sugar. Please. I need youtonight.” His hands bracket my jaw, and his eyes search mine for any sign of hope.

“I need you every night.” I kiss him again, so whisper soft that I barely feel his lower lip as mine brushes over it. Not until he answers it with a kiss so feverish that he nearly knocks me off-balance. It’s wild and desperate, like a lifeline between us, as his lips move over mine in rough, pleading strokes. He’s making up for lost time, finally taking what’s always been his.

“I want you forever, Haze. Please let me keep you this time.” The words are a mess, scattered in between one kiss after another as his fingers tangle in my wet hair. “Please.”

“I’m never letting go again,” I warn him.

“Never again,” he promises.

I shut the water off as he backs me up against the wall, pinning me and kissing me, his body pressed against mine. We stay like that for long minutes until my teeth chatter against his next kiss. His eyes dart to mine, worry in them as he pulls me from the shower, wraps me in a large bath towel, and carries me to bed.

He only unwraps me once he’s sure the fire’s on in the fireplace, and I’ve promised him I’m warm as I slip under the covers. He makes his way slowly to my side, studying me like he’s committing me to memory before he climbs in bed. He reaches for me, and his thick arms wrap around my body, dragging me to his side. I wrap my leg around his hip and my hand around his neck as he kisses me one last time before nuzzling his nose against my neck.

“Mine.” His voice breaks through the night with a quiet declaration one last time before we both fall asleep so closely wrapped around each other that I’m not sure where I end and he begins.

FORTY-EIGHT

Ramsey

It takesme two days locked away with Hazel and a visit from Bo, but I’m feeling myself again. Enough that I’m ready to confront my brothers. The conversation with Amelia has played again and again in my head, and it’s obvious there’s more to the story than they’ve told me about our parents. Fuck, there’s more to this story with Curtis and Amelia than I think they know, especially after Haze finally has a chance to fill me in on everything that was discussed between her and Curtis the day he died. It doesn’t seem to be a surprise to them either when they see me come in the door to Grant’s office looking for answers.

“I was wondering when we’d see you.” Levi looks at me thoughtfully.

“I was wondering when you were gonna stop gaslighting me,” I reply tersely.

Grant’s eyes slowly roll to the side as he lets out a smallsigh. “You had more important things to do, if you remember. Off on your little pro-football adventure instead of staying here when I asked you to.”

“You know why I left.”

“You don’t think the rest of us couldn’t stop thinking about Mom? Lev? Me? Aspen?”

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