Page 77 of Adoring Delaney

“You were right. I stopped listening.” His movements stopped and I continued. “I lost my way and wouldn’t let anyone in. I was scared and alone and I didn’t want to share my grief. Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Laney,” he whispered.

“I’d still be out there adrift by myself if you hadn’t forced me to talk. You were right to do that. I wasn’t strong enough to do it myself. Thank you.”

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“I need you to know, I’m still scared. But with you next to me it helps. Please don’t give up on me, even if I try pushing you away.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

This time his vow didn’t hurt. It didn’t bring up bad memories. Instead it settled in my heart and I made my own promise. To myself. That I’d start listening again. Not to my head or my fears. But to my heart. It knew the truth. And the absolute truth was I’d always love him. We never learned to love each other; we were born to.

Each of us was made to complement the other.

“Good night, honey,” I whispered, my eyes getting heavy and my body giving in to exhaustion.

“’Night, baby.”

I was lulled by the rhythmic beating of Carter’s heart. His weight heavy, his dick still planted deep, and my last thought before I drifted off was, this was my new favorite way to sleep.

“I’m gonna stop by the hotel and drop off the boxes. Do you need anything else before we go home?” Carter asked as he took his exit off the 95.

We were twenty minutes from home and I’d thought a lot about this over the eight-hour drive. We’d spent the last few nights sleeping together again and I suspected with what happened to my car, cameras or not he wouldn’t be allowing me to sleep alone until he figured out who had slashed my tires. And the boxes he had contained clothes. The rest he’d left for Logan, including his TV. The sheets were tossed and so were his towels.

“Just bring them to the house,” I told him.

“You sure?”

“You gonna let me sleep alone?”

“Not a chance.”

“Then I’m sure.”

“Wrong answer.”

He made a left at the traffic light that would lead him in the direction of the hotel and I was confused.

“What do you mean, wrong answer?”

“I’m not moving my stuff home until you’re ready. And me sleepin’ next to you because some asshole vandalized your car isn’t you being sure. It’s you being compliant. Giving in, because you know I want you safe.”

I was sure about other stuff, too, but I was worried it was too soon. We’d already moved from slowly fixing us to mach-speed in a few days.

“Do you think it’s too soon?” I verbalized my thoughts.

“Doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Well, I’m asking, so it matters to me.”

Carter took his time answering which was annoying as hell. I didn’t want his careful consideration; I wanted his raw response.

“I think I’ve wasted—”

“That’s not what I want. I want your honest opinion.”

“Then here you go. I don’t care when I move my stuff back into our house, because it’s just meaningless shit. What matters is where we are. It’s about where we go to sleep and where we spend time together. I don’t need my clothes back in our closet or my shampoo in the shower to be with you. If it’s tomorrow or a week from now, I don’t care. Because I know that every night your head’s gonna be resting on my chest and my arms will be around you. And that is the only thing that’s important to me.”

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