Page 158 of Heartbeats & Highways

“On?”

“Are we okay?” I asked, my voice stilted.

He paused for a moment. “No. We’re not okay. We’re not even close to being okay. Which is why we need to get out of here so we can have some damn privacy to discuss shit.”

I nibbled my lip. “What happened in Church?”

“The brothers have been brought up to speed. That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

“Are they—do they hate me? Does Duke hate me now?”

His gaze softened. “No. They don’t hate you. And Duke doesn’t either. Not even a little bit. If anything, they’re moreprotective of you now than before. Knowing your history changes things. I mean, some of them guessed it was bad, but no one had any idea . . .”

Part of my tension eased, but until Savage and I had fought it out, I wouldn’t be all right.

“Yeah. We should go,” I said. I slowly sat up, feeling groggy.

“You hungry?”

I shook my head.

“You threw up.”

“I remember.”

“So you must be hungry.”

“Must I?” I demanded with a hint of snark. “Or maybe I just have too much on my mind to think about food.”

He sighed. “Fine. Let’s get home. I’ll follow you on my bike.”

I was worried about seeing the Old Ladies in the living room on my way out. The last thing I wanted to do was put on a brave face and pretend like everything was fine when it wasn’t. But thankfully, the living room was clear of people. The kitchen was tidy. There was no evidence whatsoever of friends and family sharing a meal together the night before.

My pulse drummed in my ears the entire drive home. I didn’t even remember my journey; I was functioning on autopilot, and even though Savage claimed there was nothing I could ever do that would force him to turn away from me, I didn’t believe it.

I’d lied to him. And I’d been prepared never to share the darkest part of my soul with him.

How did you come back from that?

I parked in the back of the bakery and Savage glided his bike next to me. I cut the engine of the car, grabbed my purse, and climbed out as Savage got off his motorcycle.

Savage took my hand and led me to the bakery. Thankfully, Brielle and Jazz weren’t working so I didn’t have to fake a smile.

I waved to the girl rolling out dough and then went up the stairs, Savage trailing behind me.

After we went into the apartment, I put my purse onto the kitchen counter and then moved to the farthest corner of the room.

“What are you doing?” Savage asked me bluntly.

“Giving you space.”

He paused. “You think I’m going to hurt you.”

“No.”

“No? Then why are you all the way over there?”

“Habit,” I admitted.

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