Page 24 of Eight Years Later

“Real?” He sunk to the floor, tearing at the wrapping I sure as hell had asked the girl at the store to do, even though it wasn’t something they offered. He lifted the lid and peered inside, his eyes growing wider as he made out what was inside. “Boxing gloves?” he exclaimed, quickly pulling them out and holding them up to examine.

“We have a ring out in one of the sheds,” I explained as he pulled them on. “Kit said he’d teach you a few things. You know, just in case you need those skills sometime in the future.”

Just in case some bastard is rude to your mom again, and you need to take a stand for her.

When our eyes connected, I saw the understanding.

He got it.

Though, if there was a situation where some bastard decided to come at Kat for some reason, Dylan might just have to wait in line if I managed to get to them first.

Kat placed her hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as she watched Dylan bounce around with his new gloves on. Kit helped him tighten them before giving him a few pointers from the opposite couch.

Kat got up suddenly and held her hand out.

I stared at it for a second before looking up at her with my brow raised. “But I’m so comfortable.”

“Come on.” She groaned, walking off and leaving me still sitting there. “I was gonna give it to you later, but I have a present for you, too.”

Curiosity won, and I got to my feet, catching her around the waist as we stepped into her and Dylan’s room. Her laughter practically lit up the small space as I buried my face in the crook of her neck. “All right, all right!” she chastised, pushing me away gently. “Sit.”

I fell back, sitting on the edge of the bed as she rummaged away in the closet. She almost disappeared before she finally escaped its clutches, stumbling backward and holding a box in her hand. “Found it!”

She hurried over and placed the present on my lap before climbing onto the bed beside me and staring at it intently, as if her gaze would rip the Santa-patterned wrapping paper away.

I pulled on it.

The paper tore straight down the center and I pushed the rest to the side.

The box underneath was plain brown, giving me no clues as to what I might find inside.

I looked at her again, and she threw her hands in the air. “Just open it.”

“So impatient,” I teased, finally unfolding the box’s flaps and reaching inside.

I frowned as I wrapped my hands around the contents and lifted them into the air, my eyes moving between the plain black, shiny plate and mug that seemed to match it.

“Scrambled. Milk and one sugar,” Kat explained simply. Confusion etched itself a little deeper into my skin, my brow really pinching between my eyes. She laughed softly and rolled her eyes. “We’ve never spent the entire night together, so I’m just letting you know how I like my eggs and coffee in the mornings for when we move up here.”

I tossed the items to the side before she’d finished her sentence, closing the space between us in seconds. I wrapped my arms around Kat’s body and lifted her into the air.

“Fuck yeah!”

“There are some details we need to talk about,” she said with a laugh when her feet finally touched the ground again.

“Done,” I answered with a grin.

She rolled her eyes again and reached up, wrapping her hand around my neck so she could twist her fingers in my hair. “Seriously, Tally.”

“Gorgeous, I am as serious about having you and Dylan in my life as I am about riding motorcycles,” I told her, holding her gaze. “Could I survive without it? Sure. But I just don’t fucking want to.”

And I didn’t intend to.

Later today, I’d take her for a ride to see the house I’d rented a few streets away.

A house for her and Dylan.

And for me too, if they decided they wanted me there more permanently. But I wasn’t going to rush it. I wanted to take my time, build on what we already had and create something stronger.

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