Page 33 of Give Me Perfect Love

Jesus Christ, I am crazy.

I slide my keys from my pocket and head toward my car.

Goddamn, what a night.

I walk into our hotel room as quietly as possible. Closing the door behind me, I kick my shoes off and walk to the bathroom.

I look in the mirror.

Damn, not as bad as I thought it would be, but I’m sure tomorrow will tell another story. I touch the cut on my lip and roll my eyes.

I could have gone to jail.

But don’t you feel better?

I turn the sink on and fill my palm with water, swishing it in my mouth before spitting into the sink. I remove my coat and slide my wallet and keys from my pocket. I look down at K who sleeps on her stomach.

The rise and fall of her back tells me she’s sound asleep and I’m grateful.

Maybe we both needed a minute to think.

We didn’t exactly go the same route, but we ended up where we should.

Together.

I climb into bed and she stirs, twisting and moving on her side, away from me.

I reach over and wrap my arm around her middle. She doesn’t protest, settling in close to me, and after I breathe her in and kiss her hair, I fall asleep more content than I ever remember.

ChapterEleven

Kathrine

Soft cotton brushes against my skin as I gaze out of the hotel window. Bryce’s shirt is a welcome comfort, and I’m glad he opted for his clothes instead of my own. The sound of water is behind me and in front is endless white scattered over a beat-down town. I rest my chin on my knee, contemplating on the last forty-eight hours as dead trees sway from the wind and flakes fall from its branches.

I mindlessly bite my thumbnail as my thoughts linger on Bethany.

Heartache I wish I no longer felt glides over my cheek, moving slowly over my lips.

Why wasn’t I good enough?

Why wasn’t I loveable?

I wipe at my face when I hear the water shut off behind me, and moments later, I smell hotel soap mingled with forest green. I turn back to see Bryce walk out in black jeans and no shirt. His skin is a shade paler, but damn if his body doesn’t look even leaner, and I see he got a new tattoo going up his ribcage.

Must have been during our time apart. He takes a seat on the bed and rests his elbows on his knees before turning his head toward me.

Good Lord.

I jump up. “What the hell happened?”

He sits up straight as I grip his chin and look over his bruised eye. It’s not bad, but it’s bad enough. His lip is busted, too. He woke up before me this morning and was in the shower before I ever saw him.

“I got into a little fight last night. Nothing serious.”

I shake my head at my bad boy.

“Why did you get into a fight?”

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