Page 60 of Drifting Hearts
“I’d work for peanuts.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“I really… they want me?” My heart thrashed around in my ribs.
Kieran pulled me into his arms, against his chest. He anchored me to him the way he always did when he sensed that I needed it.
“Do they know…”
Kieran shook his head. “It’s not anything that would show up on a criminal record check. So what you tell them is up to you.”
“The truth,” I told Kieran. Even good things were hard to cope with sometimes, and I found myself clinging to him like the world was going to spin so fast that I would fly off the surface if I didn’t hold on tight.
“Are you okay?”
The laugh that came out was watery and thick. “I—can I get back to you on that?”
I sniffled and buried my face against his chest. Kieran tightened his arms around me and we stood there, on a hiking trail in the middle of nowhere, for I don’t know how long while he waited for me to gather myself.
When I felt steady again, I pulled back and looked up at him. “I have trouble accepting that I’m allowed to have good things. Those are my therapist’s words, so sometimes when good things happen to me, it freaks me out and I enter a cycle of self-sabotage.”
Kieran brushed my hair off my forehead. “That sounds hard. I’m sorry people made you feel like you weren’t worth good things.”
“How do you always know the exact right thing to say?” I asked.
Kieran shrugged, then ducked down for a kiss. His fingers hooked under my chin and he tilted my head back. Slanting his mouth over mine, he took the lead. I wanted nothing more than to let him take care of me in this moment and so many others.
At the lowest point of my life, Kieran had met me. He’d seen me bruised and battered, beaten literally and figuratively. A shell of a person at the end of their rope. And he’d hated me. So him liking me, loving me, it felt like the biggest win in the history of love stories.
“I have a gift for you,” Kieran said, his fingertips still pressing gently against my chin.
“Is it indecent?”
He laughed.
“Can it be indecent?” I slid my hands lower, grabbing his ass. I fucking loved everything about him, but he had a great ass. Thick and firm. Biteable.
“It’s not indecent. It’s also back at the cabin. I was going to wait to give it to you, but maybe you’d rather have it now.”
“Now,” I agreed, setting off in the direction of the cabin, towing Kieran with me by his hand. “Now is good.”
He laughed and followed me, lacing our fingers together. When we reached the cabin, he unlocked the door and I glanced around trying to guess where he’d stashed it and what it was.
Kieran opened his suitcase and dug around underneath the lounge pants he’d packed but hadn’t worn. I’d wondered why he’d packed those.
When I realized what he’d bought, my hand shook and my knees threatened to buckle. Kieran carried the leather-bound sketchbook to me. From underneath, he produced a new set of pencils. The same ones I’d given Michael.
I couldn’t breathe or speak when Kieran handed me the sketchbook. I ran my fingers over the embossed leather. It was too nice. Too fancy. Too beautiful for someone like me. I didn’t deserve it.
“You needed a new one, and I wanted to give you something that would remind you what you’re worth.”
Sorrow fled my lungs when I exhaled, easing my burden. Not much, but enough that I could see the gift for what it was. A tangible token of Kieran’s affection for me. Something I could touch, taste, smell, when or if I doubted his feelings. No one who didn’t love someone bought them something as beautiful as this.
“It’s the best thing I’ve ever been given.”
“Will you draw something for me?” Kieran asked.
Speech was beyond me. I’d draw anything for him. Everything. I’d draw the universe so I could give it to him. So he could fold it up and keep it in his pocket and know that he had someone who wanted to give him everything.
