Page 70 of I'm Not in Love (I Promise)

“You can talk to me about it anytime, okay? All of it. Bryan, your mom. You don’t have to carry your grief alone anymore.”I imagine chipping off pieces of my grief like peeling wallpaper and pasting the pieces onto Damon like a collage.

“It’s been a heavy burden,” I say, releasing a breath.

“I understand. I lost my mother when I was in high school. Jasper and his family were there for me, helped me through it, but I don’t think I’ve ever fully processed her death.”

“You were so young. I’m sorry.” The quiet is thick between us. “What about your father? Was he around?”

Damon chuckles. “Nope… I’m just another sad bastard with daddy issues. It’s fine, really. My mother left me with the Shea’s for over two years before I got the news of her passing. It was bound to happen. I think deep down I was always waiting to find out.”

“And then not long after, Jasper’s sister was taken?”

I watch the shift in his features, the wrinkle in his brow, the worry in his eyes. Losing Bailey has hit him harder than losing his own mother. From what I’ve learned about his relationship with Jasper’s family, I can understand why.

“Yeah, she just started college as a freshman. She went out with friends one night to a party and never came back.” He swallows hard, and continues to wrap his fingers in my hair. “I try to have hope that she’s still alive out there somewhere but every day it’s harder and harder to hold on. And fuck, I thought we had a solid lead when we came here. But clearly we’re not cut out for this detective shit.”

“Don’t lose faith,” I say. “I don’t know what I believe in, whether there is a God, or universal being, or a giant unicorn dictator up in the sky.” Damon smirks and some of the tension leaves his face. “I know you were brought here for a reason.”

“Maybe that reason was you.”

He fixes his gaze on my lips as he shifts me against his lap. I already feel his hard length pressed against me. My eyes drift closed and anticipation fills my veins.

But our moment is cut short by Damon’s phone ringing like a jarring alarm in the quiet of the night.

“Ignore it,” I say, bringing my hand down to cup his erection. He hisses and pulls me in for a kiss.

Finally the ringing stops as our kisses grow hungry. I tug my fingers through his hair, eliciting a moan.

Again, the phone rings, causing me to jump back.

“Fuck, let me see who it is.” Damon sucks in a breath and pulls the phone from his pocket. “It’s Leon. I’ll just be a second.”

“Go ahead,” I say, about to push to stand until he circles my hips and keeps me firmly planted on his lap.

“Leon, what’s up?” He leans his head back and groans. “Are you sure?” “Okay, we’ll head over now.”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Leon got an alert from the cameras and it’s going to take him a while to get out of there. They need a ride or an Uber. He wants us to go check it out. I’m sorry, we can continue this at home.”

He walks me to the car and goes back to extinguish the fire and gather all our things, including the decimated Trevor dummy. Something about the urgency in Leon’s request has me on edge.

“You think everything’s okay?” I ask, once we start driving. I can’t help but notice Damon’s tight grip on the wheel and sharp, focused gaze.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s fine.”

The tightness of my chest says otherwise. I rest my hand on Damon’s thigh and tell myself not to worry.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DAMON

I blockBlake with my body as we get out of the car. Something doesn’t feel right. There’s a stillness in the air that has my hairs standing on end. “Stay behind me.”

With a trembling lip, she nods, following my quiet footsteps. I keep to the edges of the property, doing a quick sweep around. Finding it clear, I gesture toward the stairs, gripping my pistol as we round the corner.

“Wait here,” I whisper, once we’re standing outside our door. I let all thought leave my head and focus on the here and now, steeling myself for the worst. Slowly turning the knob, I peer into the apartment. “Hello! Anyone there?”

At first glance, the place looks exactly as we left it. Energy drink cans lining the counter. Breakfast dishes in the sink. Shoes left by the door. The place is dead quiet, more so than it’s ever been.

---