Page 55 of Where You Belong

And, for once in my life, he’ll make me feel like I’m worth fighting for.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Corbin

The sky is dark, with only the ominous glow of the streetlamp on the corner and the light outside of Haelynn’s front door lighting the street. I pull up in front of Haelynn’s house and put my truck in park, hearing the rustling of leaves crunch beneath my boots when I step out.

I shoot off a text to let her know I’m here, not wanting to wake Huxton if I were to knock. A few seconds later, the door cracks open, and her face and dark brown hair peek outside.

The sight of her again sends my heart hammering in overdrive. It’s so good to see her, but I can’t ignore the way my stomach churns and my chest tightens, wondering how our conversation will go.

When I reach the steps, she holds the door open for me. When I step into the entryway, I pause in front of her, searching her face for any sign of how she’s doing and where this conversation may go.

“How are you?” I whisper, trying to be quiet.

“I’m okay.” She smiles hesitantly. I kick off my shoes and shed my coat, hanging it on the rack near the door.

She crosses her arms in front of her and tangles her fingers together, fidgeting, before she folds her arms over her chest. I’m unable to resist the urge to hold her, so I reach out and pull her into my arms. I practically sigh in relief when she comes to me easily, circling her arms around my waist.

“I’ve missed this,” I murmur, tracing my nose along the side of her face, inhaling her scent. The familiar smell eases the tension coiled inside me.

The fact I’m even here with her in my arms is a step in the right direction.

“I’ve missed you.” She exhales. The words come out fast, almost as if she hadn’t expected to say them but couldn’t hold them in any longer.

“It’s hard going into the studio and remembering when we first met. I try to focus on working, but I’m reminded of you every time another notification appears on our pictures. People all over the world are still commenting on them. If you think for a second this has been easy for me, or this is what I’ve wanted, you’re wrong.”

I lean my head back, brushing my fingers through her hair, and press a kiss against her lips to stop her. She sucks in a deep breath, and her fingers grip the front of my shirt, holding on and not letting go.

She opens her mouth to me, and our tongues tangle together. I swear, at this moment, I don’t care about anything else but her.

I don’t care about the past, what’s happened, or any of the reasons this may not work out between us. I don’t care who would be upset or disappointed by me wanting her or the hurt it could cause.

None of it matters because when I’m near her, when I feel her skin beneath my hands and her body molds against mine, I feel whole in ways I never knew were missing.

When we break apart, I tilt my forehead against hers and suck in a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

She slides her fingers into mine, and I follow her into the living room. She’s made some changes since the last time I was here. Art hangs on the wall above the couch with new photos of her and Huxton on the end table.

What doesn’t escape my notice is the picture frame next to it from our photo shoot with my arms wrapped around her.

The sight of the photo causes my breath to get caught in my chest. My eyes bounce over to hers, and she holds her fingers in front of her mouth, staring at the picture before looking back up at me.

“C’mere,” I murmur, guiding her with me onto the couch, sliding her legs over mine. She circles her arms around me, resting her head against my shoulder.

The room was dim, with only the lamp on the end table and a candle flickering on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry for leaving like I did the next morning.”

“Why did you?”

“It’s just…” She trails off, pausing to rub her fingers over her eyes. “I guess I was scared. I’m scared of what I need to tell you, scared of wanting this too much, of opening my son up to the idea of you only for it to be taken away.”

I reach for her hand, tangling our fingers together, and she continues.

“Haelynn, you should know I already know who your father is. I knew the night you came over and stayed with me. Don’t you think if I knew and it was a deal breaker, I wouldn’t have let it go that far?”

She slips her hand out of mine and clenches it into a fist, collapsing back against the couch.

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