Page 140 of Ward Willing
I don’t realize that I’ve let go of my suitcase or started running, but before I know it, he’s letting the sign fall onto the ground and I’m leaping into his arms, wrapping my legs around his hips. People cheer as I place my hands on either side of his face, and I’m grinning as he kisses me back.
His large, warm hands slide underneath my T-shirt and grip the flesh at my waist. I choke out a sob, and then his tongue pushes past my lips. He lets out a low groan that only I can hear. I start crying in earnest because he’s kissing me back.
Because we’re going to be okay.
Because he’shere.
Goosebumps break out along my skin, and I press myself closer to him—wanting to crawl on top of him completely. I kiss him with reckless abandon, crying and laughing as he holds me so tightly, like he never wants to let me go again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my lips. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, peppering kisses along my jaw and cheek.
My emotions whirl and skid with each of his movements, ebbing and flowing until my brain is short-circuiting.
Finally, I pull away, my hands still on either side of his face. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“We can talk in the car,” he says, his voice husky. “But right now, I need to keep you wrapped around my body to hide my massive hard-on from all of these strangers.”
My resounding laugh has a few people smiling and cheering for us, and all I can do is wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him as I grin like a maniac, breathing in his licorice scent.
This—he—is home.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
THE DESPERATION
Liam
I can’t stop smiling as Zoe gushes about London, telling me all about her month there. She flails her arms excitedly when she tells me about her mentors and the advice she received from them, and her face lights up whenever she talks about her book. I’m focused on the road, of course, but I can’t help but sneak quick glances at her whenever we’re stopped in traffic on the 405, or when we’re waiting at a light.
She’s the same, but also a little bit different. She carries herself with more confidence, and she seems surer of herself and where her book is going. She has a plan for the next step—and I couldn’t be any fucking prouder of her.
“Have you ever been to London? It’s such an incredible city. I think you’d like it.”
I chuckle as I pull off the freeway in Crestwood. “I’ve been before. I do enjoy a nice cold pint of lager in a pub.”
“Oh, and thanks for asking Stella’s poor father to drive me to the airport,” she says, rolling her eyes and smirking at me. “I’m sure he had much better things to do with his day.”
I laugh. “Well, he happens to owe me a favor. So, now we’re even.”
“I think he’s a bit scared of you,” she adds as I pull to a stop in downtown Crestwood. Her eyes sparkle as they bore into mine.
“You think? I guess I assumed he was used to overbearing Ravage men.”
“He was friends with your father, right?”
I nod, jaw hardening as it always does when I think of my father. “He was. Until my father fucked him over. Miles took care of it.”
“I wonder why Orion still talks to his—your—father,” she muses.
I debate telling her that he was too young to remember the neglect. Too young to remember Miles in the hospital with third degree burns. In time, he’ll figure it out, but it isn’t my place to come between him and our father.
As I turn onto the road that winds up to our house, I find the courage to tell her how sorry I am again.
“Listen, Zoe…”
“Stop apologizing,” she admonishes, her small hand coming to my thigh. “I know you’re sorry. I knew it that night. But when I got that email about London… I couldn’t let myself dwell on it. And when Prescott told me you’d sent him, I knew it was your way of saying sorry.”
I ruminate on her words for several seconds before responding. “That’s good. Because I spent the last month really fucking miserable. Even Sushi couldn’t stand to be around me.”
