Page 43 of Adoring Delaney

“Wait. You don’t have a gun.” I was unsure why I was still whispering but I couldn’t force myself to speak any louder.

“Laney.” He gave me a half smile.

“Mine’s in the safe in the closet.”

“Know where yours is. But I don’t need it.”

“There could—”

“Trust me. I don’t need it.”

I didn’t want to think about why he didn’t need a gun. I also didn’t want to think about why I was offering him one.

I nodded and moved to the door.

“Do not come out. If you hear something you don’t like, call 911, then your dad. But do not leave this house.”

Saliva filled my mouth and I nodded again. The door opened and he slipped out leaving me on the couch wondering if I was the one who needed the gun. I rummaged through my purse, found my cellphone, and held onto it like it was the next best thing.

I sat there long enough for my mind to wander and I was debating calling my dad even though I hadn’t heard anything, when I heard the lock click and the door opened.

“Need new tires, babe. I’ll call a wrecker in the morning and sort it out. If you have shit to do tomorrow you can use my truck.”

There were a few things swirling around in my head. The first was the nonchalance in which he’d told me he’d sort out my car. The second was he’d offered to let me drive his truck.

“Use your truck?” I breathed. “You don’t let anyone drive it.”

“Babe.”

“What? You don’t. When Ethan asked to use it to pick up lumber for a playset, you told him no and drove to the store to pick it up yourself.”

“That’s because he drives like an ass.”

“But—”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t let you take my truck?”

“Well, you’ve never let me drive your truck before.”

“You’ve never needed it.” That was true. I’d never actually asked to drive it. But still, I figured if he wouldn’t let his own brother drive it he’d never allow me to. “Laney baby, I don’t give the first fuck if you drive my truck or not.”

“You love that truck.”

“I do. Are you gonna take it off-roading?”

“No. That’s crazy.”

“Then why do you think I wouldn’t let you drive it?”

“I don’t know. I’m being silly, I guess.” He was still staring at me gauging my reaction when I blurted out, “This is weird.”

“What is?”

“This.” I threw my arms wide and motioned around my living room. “Us. You. All of it. This isn’t us. And I’m not throwing it in your face, but I’m not used to you sharing openly. Or offering to let me use your truck.”

“It is us. The new us.”

Carter checked the door was locked and set the alarm before he flipped the porch light off and said, “Let’s hit the sack. I’m beat.”

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