Page 49 of Hero: Claimed

I laugh again, even though nothing about this situation is funny. “Fuck… I did everything wrong. I got this call from Sly saying he saw some Devil’s Advocate asshole in the other side of the county.”

Brin’s eyes get huge.

“Yeah, bird. It flipped me so bad that I had to see you, feel you, taste you, that I never even stopped to consider we were at work and you were on Liv’s desk. I just needed to feel you. When Liv walked in on us—that was the exact moment that I realized I flipped because I was in love with you, and that freaked me out more than just about anything ever could.”

Tears I don’t necessarily understand roll down over the apples of her cheeks. “Because you were embarrassed to be in love with someone who looks like me?”

I sit up, shaking my head vigorously. “No,fuckthat. See… that’s the thing. I went through all sorts of excuses in my head about why loving you bothered me. But that’s all they were, excuses. When Blue and I were following your trail, speeding to get to you, I had to come to terms with what I was feeling so I wouldn’t be that stupid ever again.”

“What did you come up with?” she asks, wiping at her face.

“My moms died when I was really young and I told you, Pops never got over that shit. Then my pops, the closest person in the world to me, dropped dead one day with no warning. What happens when I marry you, bird? What happens when you give me our first kid? I’m gonna fall harder and harder for you—that shit’s not going away. Everyone I ever loved died on me. And as bad as it hurt to lose my parents, how would I survive losing you? Pops never got over my mom. Never. All these what ifs inundated my thoughts. What if I can’t be the man she needs? What if I can’t protect her? When I pictured losing you, I couldn’t breathe. Pain tore at my heart, bird…”

The pussy that I am, I wipe at my eyes, ridding them of the tears blurring my vision.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” I lean in to kiss her forehead. “You’d never have been put in the position to leave with Blaze if I’d been honest with you. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“It’s not really yours to forgive. It’s mine, Levi. And as long as you promise not to pull that shit on me ever again, I’ll forgive you.”

“Promise, bird. You’re stuck with me.”

Brin snuggles closer to me, resting her head on the pillow next to mine. “In case you’re curious, I love you too.”

Even spoken through a clenched, wired jaw, no words sounded more beautiful to my ears.

“I miss him,” I admit to the one person in the world I’d share this part of myself with.

“Your dad?” she asks and I suck in a sharp breath because she deserves to know the truth.

“Blaze,” I answer, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t have to see the disappointment on her face.

But rather than shifting away, she burrows closer. “Hey, look at me.” Her voice comes soft and breathy, smooth and sultry. It’s everything wrapped up in one. The kind of voice a man could listen to forever and forever wouldn’t be enough. I have no choice. I open my eyes. “He made some bad choices,okay? I’m never going to be okay with those choices, but drugs—addiction—changes people. That doesn’t mean you don’t have the right to miss him. He was your friend.”

“But he took you, got you beaten up. Tried to give you back to that trog.”

“He did. But he also attacked Crush two different times. Making it so Blue got caught in the shoulder and not the chest or gut, which have a higher risk of being mortal wounds. And then, he fell saving you, babe. You’re here with me because he took the bullet meant for you. That has to count.”

“You’re not mad then?”

“Never. You and Blue and all the brothers and old ladies need to mourn the man you knew before the drugs got their claws in him.”

“How’d you get so smart so young?”

She chuckles. “I’ve seen too much in my twenty-two years. Life can be a brutal teacher.”

I bend in to place a light kiss to her lips, her forehead and under her ear. Those are the only places I can reach that aren’t black and blue or scabbed over.

“Hungry?” I ask.

“Mm… yeah.”

“What do you want?”

“Pancakes,” she says and that makes me laugh.

“Right. Strawberry smoothie it is.” Then I heft myself out of the bed in order to make my woman breakfast.

When I make my way back to bed, it’s with a tray of hot coffee and a bowl of yogurt, granola and fruit for me and a special coffee smoothie that I searched for on the internet. It has all kinds of goodies that shouldn’t taste good in it, like greens and avocado and oatmeal, but it tastes exactly like a mocha smoothie. Her eyes light up when she sees it.

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