Page 114 of Hot Shot

When he pulls me back into his chest, I start to cry in earnest again. “Goddammit, I am such an asshole. And I didn’t even thank you.” He swallows hard, holds me tighter. “You are one of the best things in my life, and you always have been. The second you don’t know how appreciated you are is the second I’ve stopped doing my job, and I swear to you—it won’t happen again. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

I’m crying so hard, I’m worried I might hyperventilate, but after a few minutes listening to his heartbeat in one ear and his comforting murmurs in the other, the tears have run their course.

When he loosens his grip, it’s only far enough to cup my shoulders and run his big hands down my upper arms. He ducks his head a little so we’re closer to eye level.

“New plan,” he starts, and I listen raptly. Because despite begging him not to fix things, I would love a life raft. “First, I will not pick up any more shifts during the week. Okay?”

I nod.

“Second, fuck the house and the meals. None of it matters. And the truck we’ll figure out, even if it means me fixing it through all eternity like that guy who can’t push the rock up the hill.”

I chuckle. “Okay.”

“You have all this stuff to do, so I’m going to take Cricket to the Wilsons, and I’ll bring home dinner.”

Great, now I’m going to cry again. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely fucking positive. And this weekend we aren’t gonna do shit but lay around like slobs and rest and you can work, with my help if you want it. Unless you need space for that, in which case I’ll be doing a lot of hiking with Remy.”

This time, I laugh. “You can stay.”

He smiles. “Good because being away from you all week was hell.” Again, he gathers me in his arms. “Thank you, Cass. For everything. I am so lucky. Cricket issolucky. And I won’t let you down again. But promise me something.”

“What?” I say to his shoulder because my head is tucked under his chin.

“Don’t do this again. Don’t take so much on that you break. Tell me next time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” With another kiss to the top of my head, he lets me go. “I’ll help Cricket get ready. You go put on your ratty ass sweatpants and do your hair up in that bird’s nest.” He leans in to kiss my cheek, pausing at my ear after. The hairs on my neck rise, goosebumps flaring at the feel of his breath. “Because you know that shit turns me on. And later, if you ask mereal nice, I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember what planet you’re on. Deal?”

“Deal,” I whisper.

He catches my chin between his thumb and index finger, taking a gentle kiss, firm enough to convey the promise.

And then he leaves me standing in the kitchen, grateful and tired and already trying to forget what I was so upset about.

Because thinking about it only makes it worse.

CHAPTER 42

NO SHIT, SHERLOCK

WILDER

The smell of the pizza in the passenger seat has my mouth wateringalmostas much as the thought of all the things I’m gonna do to Cass when I get home.

Cricket and I talked the whole way to her grandparents’ house, so when I got in the truck to head home, it was finally just me and my thoughts. And my thoughts are many.

Mostly, I feel like a fucking asshole for leaving Cass holding the bag on such a busy week. I didn’t even consider it, just picked up an extra shift and worked. Worked my one job while she did ten. How I neglected to notice that she was overwhelmed was beyond me. She seemed fine when I saw her and we talked and texted. It was so unlike her not to tell me exactly what she needs or how she feels, I assumed she’d say something.

A secondary thought is that the Cass I used to know would have said something. There was almost never a moment with Cass when we were young when I didn’t know exactly how she felt. She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t, and when someone crossed a line with her, they knew. But thisCass has been cut off from the world, controlled for ten years. She’s put herself in a box, made herself fit into a space that wouldn’t accommodate that essential, most pure part of her. Davis took that away from her. Somehow, that dickface managed to steamroll past her boundaries. The same boundaries I unthinkingly breeched with the car suggestion.

Asshole.

I work out a few ways to take some of the pressure off Cass, like asking Shelby or Dad to take Cricket to practices and appointments when I’m working. Or maybe I could make some meals over the weekend to freeze so she can just reheat them. I bet I can figure out how to use a crockpot. Maybe I could even put something in before I leave for work so she doesn’t have to think about dinner. A maid would be nice too, just to take house cleaning off Cass’s plate completely.

I frown, wondering if I’m fixing things I shouldn’t again. But this fixing is all about taking care of Cricket, so it’s okay, right? With a sigh, I admit I don’t know for sure and make a note to ask Cass if all that’s okay before I go and accidentally make shit worse.

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