Page 148 of The Spider & the Storm

God, is that what she thinks? Does she believe I’m only with her because of what her body can offer?

“Stormy, I am grateful for everything, but expect nothing. If I have given you the impression that I only want you for—”

“Oh Jesus, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I just …” She huffed with amusement and embarrassment. “I just didn’t want you to feel insulted that I’m just all, like, okay, kiss on the cheek, let’s spoon, good night. Because I seriously love our sex life, okay, and I’d really love to go at it right now, especially with that hot way you defended me today. But … I’m trying to do the right thing, so …”

I rested my palm against her cheek, stroking my thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m not here to get laid in your parents’house,” I said quietly. “I’m here because I want to be with you. That’s all. And if you told me you never ever wanted to have sex with me again—”

“Which would never happen.”

I snorted. “But if youdid, it wouldn’t matter. How I feel for you runs deeper than that. I—”

“Are you in love with me?” she asked, a touch of hope pushing her words along a breathy whisper.

The question knocked the wind from my lungs as I searched for that green gaze in the darkness. My heart was frantic, wild, unable to find a steady rhythm as it tried to burst through my bones and flesh to rest against hers. And I didn’t want to lie to her despite all the fear I held in being honest, so the only word I could manage was a strained, whispered, “Yes.”

She released a gust of breath that sounded almost like a laugh as she leaned into me and pressed her forehead to my shoulder.

“Wow,” she muttered, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear. “Nobody has ever said that to me before.”

I had thought I loved Amanda, and I had been absolutely certain that I loved Jersey, and I supposed that, at the time, maybe I had. Maybe I had loved them to whatever capacity my younger self could. But I knew for a fact that I'd never felt like this—God, not even close.

I wouldn't have come back here, to Connecticut, for anyone else. I could've only done that for Stormy. Because she didn't run, and for her, I had come back.

Luke should meet her.

My cheek rested against the top of Stormy's head as I worried my bottom lip, thinking about him. Thinking about taking some time this weekend and seeing if I could drive up to Wayward Correctional Facility to visit my brother for the first time in five years.

“Charlie.”

Startled from thoughts about Luke, I lifted my cheek from her head, and she looked up to find my eyes in the dark.

“Yeah?”

Her hand curled around the back of my neck, her fingertips pushing into the hair at my nape. She pulled my lips toward hers, then kissed me gently, tender and sweet. Her breath stuttered, and I realized she was crying. I smoothed those tears away and brushed the hair from her eyes as she pressed what seemed like a hundred kisses to my lips, cheek, and jaw before touching her forehead to mine.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I just wanted to say that I'm in love with you too.”

“Wow,” I whispered into the dark. “Nobody has ever said that to me before … and meant it.”

Giddiness grabbed ahold of us both as we laughed, nearing hysterics, surrounded by pillows and blankets and the walls that had seen too much of her youth. But now, they’d seen something else—a rebirth. The declaration of her love for me and mine for her. And we kissed and hugged and came dangerously close to breaking her parents’ house rules.

With grins on our faces, she turned in my arms and once again pressed her back to my chest. She threaded her fingersbetween mine and brought my hand to her mouth, where she kissed my knuckles and sighed.

“I’m happy I could be your first,” she said, her elation now fogged by sleep.

I pressed a single kiss to her shoulder and whispered back, “I’m even happier to be your last.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CONNECTICUT, PRESENT DAY

It was Thanksgiving Day, and I awoke, more thankful than I’d been in years.

The house was flooded with a bounty of scents, the varied foods being cooked. Foods I hadn't smelled or eaten in longer than I could remember.

Stormy rolled in my arms to kiss me with her eyes still closed. “Happy Thanksgiving, Charlie,” she whispered in a sleepy voice.

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