Page 83 of Unsure in Love

“Hi.”

In my shocked state, my only response was, “H-hey.” Did I somehow make this phone call happen by thinking about him excessively?

“I’m sorry for waking you.”

I glanced at the screen. It was after one in the morning. “It’s okay. Is everything alright?” I might not have known Damian for that long, but I knew him enough to know his voice was different. The usual silky, confident cadence was uncertain and strained.

“No.” He sighed. “I’m outside.”

“Outside…?”

“Your apartment.”

I sprang to my feet. “What? How…? When…?”

Already moving to the living room, I nervously ran my fingers through my tousled hair. When I reached the door, I realized I was wearing one of my rattiest t-shirts and sweatpants that had done its time. However, there was no time to change. Swallowing my disappointment about looking like a bum, I opened the door.

There he was, standing on my porch. He didn’t say a word, just stared at me. I hungrily took in every gorgeous inch of him. While my heart fluttered with relief that he was here, worry settled in my gut because of the exhausted air surrounding him. His eyes were weary and bloodshot, and his jaw was more stubbled than I’d ever seen.

He looked so miserable that I wondered what could be wrong. It became clear the longer I held his gaze and saw pain flicker in the obsidian pools.

“Oh, no,” I whispered. The only thing that would make him this miserable was losing his father. “Did Luis…?”

Damian scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. He’s gone.”

Without another word, I covered the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him. With a soft sigh, he relaxed in my embrace, and I was relieved I could offer some comfort.

“It’s late,” he murmured.

I held on to him tighter. “It is.”

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this.”

Pulling back to look at him, I said, “It’s okay.” After torturing myself about possibly having pushed him away, his presence was reassuring. And I needed to be there for him. “Let’s get you inside.”

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in it. Then he surprised me by lowering his head to graze my lips with his. It was brief, innocent even, but I closed my eyes and basked in the slight contact.

“I missed you,” I blurted.

“I missed you too.” His low gravelly tone reinforced how worn out he looked and I ushered him inside.

As we stepped into my living room, he glanced down at our intertwined hands. I hadn’t even thought about it. I just slipped my hand into his because it felt natural.

“Have a seat. You look so tired.” I watched him with a frown.

He didn’t let me go even as he sat. “I am, but I just wanted to be here… with you.”

My heart tripped over itself like it always did when he said something sweet. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around my waist. I smiled when he rested his head on my stomach. Every time he gave my growing baby bump special attention, I felt warm and tingly all over.

I really had it bad for him, and I couldn’t help holding on to him. With one hand wrapped around his shoulders and the other threading through his silky tresses, I murmured, “I’m so sorry, Damian.”

He grunted and held me tighter. Satisfaction surged through me because he sought comfort from me and not anyone else.

“Can I get you anything?” I considered how exhausted he looked. “Coffee maybe? Something to eat?”

He chuckled and let go of me, to my disappointment. “It’s after midnight. I can’t expect you to be a gracious hostess after popping up without notice.”

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