Page 140 of Sweet Caroline
“Yeah. Maybe Adrian’s right about my villain era.” She looks down at my chest. “But I finally hit my toxicity limit, I guess. He’s a real piece of work.”
“I’m sorry.” I hug her closer, resting my chin on the top of her head. “You deserve so much better.”
“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” She draws back and lifts her gaze, tears welling in her eyes again. “For how he treated you.”
“He was a dick to us both. But you’re hisdaughter. He shouldn’t have—” I cut myself off and shake my head. “How did it feel?”
“Feltgreat, actually.” There’s a hint of guilt in her expression. “Hard, but great.”
“So proud of you,” I whisper, then kiss her again.
She hums a little sound of relief when our lips part. “God, I missed kissing you.”
“Well, we’ll have to make up for all those missed ones.” I smirk, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “But seriously, you sure about this? ’Cause I’m not gonna promise smooth sailing. I can’t promise?—”
“I know.” She nods.
“I mean, being sober—stayingsober—is something I’m gonna have to face every day for the rest of my life.” I should probably shut up, but I need to be sure she knows what she’s signing up for. “And I’m not asking you to save me or fix me, okay? I’m gonna keep working on myself. It’smyjob to keep getting better.”
“Miles, I know.” She takes my face in her chilled hands and lifts to kiss me. “And yes, I’m sure.”
Something tight in my chest seems to release its grip. “I fucking love you.”
“I fucking love you too.” Slipping her fingers over my jaw, she arches a brow. “And, honestly? You had me atmessy-ass ride.”
I laugh and lift her off the ground, wrapping her legs around my hips.
“So, should I take that literally, or…?” she continues. Her grin is flirtatious, stoking that familiar heat deep inside me.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan out. “I can’t wait to get you alone. More alone thanthis, anyway.” I kiss her again, reminding myself we can’t get carried away out here. “We gotta finish that list of yours, right? And let’s just saythis ass”—I palm her through her jeans, squeezing hard—“is in for one hell of a messy ride.”
Her burst of laughter masks the opening bars of the song, but we both go still when we finally hear the music coming from the porch.
“Is that…?” I screw up my face, then crane my neck to catch Gus slowly sliding his kitchen door shut, pumping his eyebrows.
“Oh, God,” Caroline says, obviously recognizing the tune.
Then I place it. The muted trumpet part at the beginning.
Sweet Caroline.
“Bro!” I call out to him, setting Caroline on her feet again. “Turn it off!”
He motions to his ears through the glass, mouthing an exaggerated, “Can’t hear you, sorry!”
Fucker.
I roll my eyes, though I don’t think anything could wipe the dopey smile from my face.
Caroline and I share a resigned look, then break into laughter when we spot Olena making a nonplussed Mr. Lumps—wearing a lopsided little Santa hat and matching jacket—wave to us through the glass.
Caroline tugs me against her, grinning.
“Thought you hated this song.”
“Oh, I do,” she says, beaming up at me. “But, for some reason, I’m just reallyfuckinghappy right now.”
I know the feeling.
