Page 19 of Make Me Yours
It shook the entire foundation of everything I thought I wanted.
Now I’m standing in the rubble, trying to figure out if I built any of it for me.
With a groan, I flop onto my side and bury my face in the pillow. Even though this isn’t Steele’s room, the sheets smell faintly like him. Clean and woodsy, with a hint of cedar. It’s a scent so familiar it tugs at something buried within me. I inhale deeply before I can stop myself as my fingers clutch the edge of the pillow like it will somehow anchor me in this moment.
That’s when I register that I’m still wearing Steele’s old Western Wildcats T-shirt from last night. Maybe that’s why his scent surrounds me like a warm blanket. Back in the day, I used to steal it from his dorm room and refuse to give it back. I’d jokethat it was my lucky T-shirt, something to wear when I needed comfort.
But this time, I didn’t have to steal it.
After my bath last night, I found it neatly folded on the bed.
Somehow, the man always knows what I need. Even when I don’t realize it myself.
With a sigh, I push myself up and rub my hands over my face, which is exactly when I spot the steaming cup of coffee sitting on the nightstand.
Right next to a covered breakfast plate that’s still warm.
There’s a sticky note stuck to the side of the plate with Steele’s messy handwriting scrawled across it.
Eat. You’ll feel better. I have practice this morning, but I’ll be back later. Don’t even think about trying to leave. – S
I blink, my throat suddenly too tight.
Devon never did anything thoughtful like make me breakfast in bed or bring me coffee. I pick up the cup and take a sip, the warmth spreading through me. My eyelids feather closed as I savor the delicious cinnamon flavor.
And Devon certainly didn’t pay attention to how I like my coffee either.
But Steele has.
I scroll through my phone while eating, catching up on the wreckage that is now my life. There are half a dozen missed calls from Evelyn and a bombardment of texts in the group chat with the girls. There was no way I could keep it all to myself last night.
Callie:
Come to the bakery. We’ll have coffee, pastries, and a safe space to plot Devon’s doom.
Rina:
I second that. No judgment. Only caffeine, carbs, and girl therapy.
Sloane:
I’ll bring the extra whipped cream. And possibly a baseball bat. Just say the word.
Callie:
Seriously, Lilah. We’ve got you. Come hang with us. Please?
A fresh wave of emotion crashes through me. It’s different from yesterday. This one feels lighter.
Hopeful.
I type out a reply.
Me:
I’ll be there. Thanks.
There’s also one unread text from Steele.
