Page 83 of Tough Love

He massages my neck gently with his fingertips, his thumbs on my throat. “I did it for you. You changed me.”

He takes my frown as a silent request for an explanation.

“When I heard what happened to you after I left, how much worse it got, the news shaped me, Amelia. I swore that I’d never let another person suffer because I wasn’t strong enough to help them. I swore I’d never let anyone down again.” He smiles sadly, running his palms down over my shoulders and arms until he reaches my hands. “Every time I started to slow down on the training course, every time I wanted to close my study books and go to sleep, I thought of you. Damn right I’m guilty about what happened that day, about what I didn’t do when we were together, but I took that pain and shaped it into something worthwhile.”

I squeeze his hands, tugging him back against me. “You made sure you could help others, to make up for the fact you couldn’t help me.”

He nods, letting go with his right hand to stroke my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I never thought I’d see you again, that I’d have a chance to admit everything, make amends.”

“You don’t need to make amends,” I stress. Doesn’t he get it? “We were both young, fighting somebody with a lot more experience, and a lot less morals.”

“Somebody who’s still making your life hell.”

I shrug. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Perhaps he just wanted to scare me?Unlikely.“He might be simply trying to intimidate me into letting him see Briar.”

“Even so, I don’t want to risk it.”

“What are you proposing, Officer?” I tease. “A personal bodyguard for us?” His eyes hold no hint of humour, nothing. “You can’t do that.”

“Maybe not while I’m at work, but you can bloody well think again if you assume I’m going to let you sleep alone at night.”

That shouldn’t make me a little turned on.

But it totally does.

“I can’t believe you just invited yourself into my bed.” I laugh, smacking him lightly on the chest.

“Objections?” His lips quirk up at the corner.

I run my hands up to his neck and wrap them around the back as I answer, “None at all.”

TWENTY-NINE

The struggle to keep my interactions with Evan to a PG level is real. Briar eyes us both as we sit at my round table to have our dinner: takeaway Chinese. Neither of us have mentioned or even hinted at the fact Evan plans on staying the night, but Briar’s not stupid—he can sense something’s up, something’s different.

“So,” Evan says to Briar, breaking the ice. “Amelia tells me you’re going to start playing cricket soon.”

He nods, pointing to the calendar pinned next to the fridge that has the days marked off. “We’re counting.”

“Exciting.” His foot nudges mine under the table. “Guess we better teach you how to drive so you can get to games on time, huh.”

Briar breaks into peals of laughter, hoisin sauce dribbling down his chin.

These are the moments I cherish, the interactions I’ve missed. As much as I love hanging out with Briar and keeping him all to myself, seeing the way these two effortlessly get along has my heart swelling a little more every time.

Dinner is demolished in no time at all, thanks to both the men—big and little—being huge fans of stir-fry. Evan collects the empty containers, clearing the table as I usher Briar off for a shower before bed.

By the time I have Briar cleaned, brushed, read to, and tucked in, the kitchen is spotless, and Evan is reclined lengthways on the sofa with his head propped on one arm, his feet on the other.

I round the sofa to find him with my latest music purchase in his hands. He flips the cover for the Radiohead album over, reading the playlist.

“You like?” I ask.

He smirks, leaning off the sofa a little to set it down on the coffee table. “What made you buy that classic?”

I take a seat on the edge of the low table, smiling. “Something about a memory that involved a certain song and a shy, cute guy from my school.”

He grins, knowing exactly what I’m referring to. “You remember that, huh?”

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