Page 98 of Sinful
Home.
The word echoes in my head.
I don't have a home anymore.
My apartment in Texas was just a temporary place to sleep, and Florida hasn't felt like home in years.
Maybe home isn't a place.
Maybe it's just wherever you are when you're not running.
Maybe home could be with someone instead of somewhere.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I suddenly feel like I need air.
The clubhouse feels too small suddenly, too many people, too many memories.
I head outside, find a spot by the fence overlooking the back property.
The woods where Bravos and I?—
My face heats at the memory.
"Thought I'd find you here."
I turn. Bravos is walking toward me, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed in a way I haven't seen before.
"How was the meeting?" I ask.
"Fine. Damon's coordinating with his DEA contacts. Runes is mapping targets. We've got a solid plan." He stops beside me, close enough that our shoulders touch. "But I kept thinking about you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He turns to face me. "How's your dad?"
"Better. The doctor says another week and he'll be mobile. In two weeks, maybe he can go home."
"Good. That's good."
Silence settles between us. Comfortable. Easy.
"I've been thinking," I say. "About us. About Texas."
"Yeah?"
"I don't have a home there. I mean, I have an apartment, but it's not—it's just a place." The words come faster now. "So, maybe when we get back, if you’re really serious about this we figure out what home looks like. Together."
Bravos goes very still. "Are you asking to move in with me?"
"Maybe. Eventually. Or maybe you move in with me. Or we get our own place halfway between Sharp and Austin." I'm rambling now, can't stop. "I just—I don't want to keep running, and you make me feel like maybe I don't have to."
He pulls me close, wraps his arms around me. I bury my face against his chest, breathing him in.
"Then let's stop running," he says quietly. "Both of us."
"Yeah. Let's do that."
We stand there together as the sun moves across the sky.
