I blow out a shaky breath. “Me too.”
He hums, tracing my bottom lip with his thumb. I part my lips and he slides his thumb inside my mouth. I suck gently, my tongue swirling around his thumb.
Thunder rolls in the distance, a low rumble. Walker takes a step back and helps me down off the counter then he continues walking me through his home. The chocolate brown leather furniture in the living room looks well-worn and so cozy. There’s a stone fireplace with a large flat screen TV hanging above the mantel across from the couch. There are a few picture frames hanging on the wall. Grayson’s face smiles back at me all at varying stages of childhood. I take my time perusing through his things, unapologetic in my nosiness.
“Come here.” I spin around at the sound of Walker’s voice. His arm is outstretched and I go to him. As soon as I’m near, he tucks me close. “I like seeing you here.”
My next words come out slowly when I admit, “I’ve dreamt of this home.”
“What?”
“Your home. I’ve had this dream home in my head for almost twenty years. When I was a teenager and realized how badly my parents sucked, my nights were filled with dreams of a future.” I shift, spreading my arms out. “This is what I dreamed.”
“My house?”
“Yes. Almost down to the color of your walls and flooring. It’s…”
“Meant to be.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, feeling on the brink of tears but remembering I promised him no more tears, even if it was because of happiness. Which these definitely are.
“You fit here.”
I blink and swallow the emotion down as a loud crash of thunder booms, shaking the house. Lightning flashes just seconds later before the patter of rain starts hitting the windows.
“I’d like to see your bedroom.”
“That I can definitely do.”
He lifts me, throwing me over his shoulder and I squeal, glad he brought us back to playful again.
I don’t know how he did it. I didn’t expect to trust anyone with my heart again.
But I’m throwing it at him and hoping he’s catching it, because my heart? It’s gone for him.