Page 71 of Steadfast

“Yeah, I probably would,” he said thoughtfully. “But that’s because you love to fucking argue, even though we both want the same thing.”

I huffed in annoyance because I knew he was right.

“We going to argue?” he asked in amusement.

“No,” I shot back.

“Good,” he murmured, pressing his face into my neck. “Because I haven’t touched you in over a week.”

“You could’ve the last two nights,” I pointed out, tipping my head to the side to give him more access.

“I wasn’t gonna fuck you in your aunt’s driveway,” he said with a huff of laughter.

“Your loss,” I said, grinning as he nipped at my neck. “I totally would’ve put out.”

“Good thing one of us had a little restraint,” he said.

My hands roamed, smoothing over his shoulders and back, down to the waistband of his boxers.

We were frantic and nearly silent as we stripped out of our clothes. It was more than the length of time since we’d last slept together that made us rush, it was the distance that I’d put between us by leaving him behind. He led, like always, but that night I didn’t argue or fight it, I just didn’t have it in me. I wanted him to take control. It was a relief, one I recognized and welcomed.

We fell asleep naked, twisted around each other, every part of us touching like we couldn’t get close enough.

As soon as the sun began to rise the next morning, I slipped out of bed and got dressed. When I got downstairs, I found Aunt Ashley at the kitchen table with two disposable coffee cups.

“Borrowed your car this morning,” she said quietly, pushing a coffee toward me. “I needed some caffeine. You couldn’t sleep either?”

“Slept like a baby,” I replied, remembering the rumpled man I’d left in my bed upstairs. “But, I want to find that paperwork,” I replied. By unspoken agreement, we hadn’t even ventured into my mom’s room when we got there the night before, but now it was time.

“Lead the way,” she said as I grabbed my coffee.

“It’s a mess,” I warned as we got to the door.

“It’s okay,” she said gently, setting her hand on my back.

I nodded and swung open the door, refusing to be embarrassed. If I had anything to be embarrassed about, Aunt Ashley did, too. Mom was her sister. Neither of us flinched as we went inside.

“All of the paperwork is in the closet, I think,” I said as Aunt Ashley strode toward the window.

She shoved open the window and immediately cool air spread through the room. “Let’s air things out a bit first,” she said. “Okay?”

“Sure,” I said, following her over to the bed.

I helped her strip the comforter and sheets. While I brought them to the garage and stuffed them in the washing machine, Aunt Ashley grabbed a plastic bag and started rounding up all the liquor and beer bottles.

“I’ll get rid of these,” she said brusquely, stuffing a bottle into the bag. “With the guardianship stuff on the line, you don’t need someone seeing you bringing this shit to recycle it.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, helping her clean.

By the time she slowed and eventually stopped, the room was mostly clean.

“I probably should’ve done that a long time ago,” I said, looking around in amazement. It had taken us less than half an hour.

“Amanda should’ve done it,” she corrected. “Not your responsibility to clean up her messes.”

I just nodded.

“Closet,” she ordered, pointing. “Show me where to start.”

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