Page 355 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
A sob erupts.
We don’t lie to each other.
We never lie to each other.
“He’ll understand, baby. He’s a good person.”
“B-but…” My words trail off as I spiral again. “I need to go to him. I need?—”
“Sutton wants you to read her a bedtime story,” he reminds me.
The memory of her asking me to do tonight’s story flickers through my mind, and my heart swells as love rushes through my veins.
I feel so wanted here. So loved.
I never want to leave.
“While you do that, I’ll speak to Mom and see if she’s okay to come over, and then I’ll drive you to your dad’s.”
“I-I can go,” I offer weakly. “I’m not sure you being there?—”
“You’re not going alone, Casey. You’re mine, and we fight our battles side by side. If he wants to get rid of me, he’ll have to say it to my face.”
Another whimper spills free. “Please don’t say that.”
His brow wrinkles. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen. Everything will be fine.”
He’s lying.
He’s as worried as I am. He just doesn’t want me to see it.
If Dad trades him, sends him across the country…
I blow out a long, slow breath.
I’d follow him. I’d follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary.
“If the worst happens, I’ll come. No matter where it is. You and me, Kodie. We’re it.”
“Casey,” he whispers, leaning forward to press his forehead against mine and closing his eyes, savoring our closeness.
When he opens them again, they’re glassy and full of emotion, which makes my heart race faster and my stomach knot harder.
“I love you, Casey. I love you so fucking much.”
“But?” I prompt, feeling like there’s more that he doesn’t want to say.
“But…” The word punches all the air out of my lungs. My grip on his upper arms tightens as I wait for what he needs to say. “I could never ask you to uproot your entire life. LA is your home. Your jobs are here. Parker is here. Your Dad.”
“I don’t care. My dad and Parker will always be here, and at the end of a phone. I can get new jobs. But I can’t get a new you. I love you, and I have no intention of living my life again without you. And plus, you’re not asking me to do anything.”
“Fucking hell,” he groans. “What did I do to deserve you?”
I don’t respond. I’m pretty sure it’s a rhetorical question.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he repeats as if him saying it over and over will make it true.
Leaning forward, he presses his lips to mine. It’s the sweetest,most heartfelt kiss I think we’ve ever shared, and it ensures more tears spill from my eyes.
