Page 38 of Reclaimed Roots

I set her on the bed and helped her out of her shoes, dropping them to the side. Her jeans came next, and I averted my eyes as much as possible, hyper-aware of how soft her skin felt beneath my fingers.

I wanted to touch her. Tease her. Take something I'd been missing out on forseven fucking years. But the physical satisfaction of it would do jack shit to fix the hole in my chest, and I didn't need her ripping it wide open again.

Plus, she had a boyfriend. She'd moved on. She was drunk, and she was hurting right now, so I did the noble thing—even if it was the last fucking thing I wanted to do.

I tucked her under the covers and stood next to the bed, prepared to head to the couch and dream of an alternate universe where she never left. But then she said three small words that changed everything.

"Stay with me?"

Her voice was thick and drowsy, her eyes already heavy with sleep. How could I deny her? Never could before. Couldn't imagine starting now.

"Always," I promised, the word carrying more weight than she knew or I cared to admit. Sliding in beside her, Igathered her close. She curled into me with a contented sigh, her body molding perfectly against mine.

The gentle sound of her breathing, the warmth of her body, the soft texture of her hair tickling my chin—it all combined to create a moment of perfect peace. For the first time in forever, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. As I started to drift off, one word echoed through my mind.

Home.

Chapter Seventeen

NATALIE

I woke slowly,head pounding and mouth dry as the Sahara. Last night's whiskey was exacting its revenge, and I was pretty sure there was a jackhammer drilling directly into my skull.

Groaning, I blinked away the remnants of sleep. It took a moment for my fuzzy brain to register that I wasn't in my bedroom at Mom's house. No, those navy blue sheets and the faint scent of pine could only belong to one person.

Jasper.

The events of last night flooded back in a dizzying rush. Drinking with Chase at Callaghan's, his unwanted kiss, running after Jasper and tripping on the sidewalk like a clumsy idiot. Jasper carrying me back to his apartment, tenderly bandaging my hand, tucking me into his bed...

Shit. I'll never drink whiskey again.

I sat up gingerly, the movement sending a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through my head. Squinting against the too-bright sunlight filtering through the blinds, I scanned the bedroom for any sign of Jasper. The adjoining bathroom door was open, the space beyond it empty and silent.

Huh. Maybe he's in the kitchen?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, wincing as my bare feet hit the cool floor. Padding out to the living room, I was greeted by more empty space. No Jasper lounging on the couch, no scent of coffee brewing or bacon sizzling.

He wasn't here.

Disappointment settled like a stone in my gut. I had hoped to talk to him, to thank him for taking care of me last night. To apologize again for the chaos I caused, the hurt I saw in his eyes when he walked in on Chase kissing me.

The timing was almost suspect, like the universe was playing some cruel joke. What were the chances that Jasper would walk into Callaghan's at thatexactmoment?

And apparently, Jasper had better things to do that morning than stick around and nurse my hangover.

I couldn't blame him. I'd been back in Sable Point for less than two weeks, and I was already stirring up drama like it was my job.

God, what was I thinking?Drinking myself into oblivion, letting Chase get too close, running after Jasper like some lovesick fool. I was supposed to be the level-headed one, the fixer who swooped in to save the day. Not the hot mess who needed rescuing.

Sighing, I headed to the bathroom to freshen up. I wanted to look slightly less like a hungover raccoon before I ventured out in public. I splashed cold water on my face,finger-combed my tangled hair, and rinsed the stale taste of whiskey and bad decisions from my mouth.

It wasn't much, but it would have to do. I had a walk of shame to get through, and I didn't want to look like total roadkill while doing it.

I found my pants from last night folded neatly on the dresser, no doubt Jasper's doing. The memory of him sliding them off me last night sent a tiny crackle down my spine.

I pushed it aside. No point in dwelling on might-have-beens and roads not taken.

Once I was dressed, I took a moment to straighten the rumpled sheets on Jasper's bed and fold the comforter with military precision. It was the least I could do, considering he'd let my drunk ass crash there last night.

---