Page 70 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One
“Thank you. For staying.”
A faint smile graces his lips, and then he’s gone.
I grab my phone and scroll through my notifications until my eyelids don’t feel like they weigh fifteen pounds each. After getting ready for the day, I head down to the kitchen.
Rhett hands me a cup of coffee with a kiss, and I settle onto a barstool at the counter. He can’t stop doing things with his hands—fiddling with his own cup of coffee, opening and closing a drawer absentmindedly, pulling at his shirt.
How he has spare energy, I’ll never understand.
“I think I’m gonna go on a run.”
I frown. “In the snow?”
“The road’s plowed fine. I’ve just been restless all night.” He winces. “Not that I minded. I promise I didn’t.”
“I know,” I say softly, sipping my coffee. “Do whatever you need. Just bring a weapon, please.”
“Always.” With that, he disappears, leaving his coffee abandoned on the counter.
With a sigh, I head to the sunroom. I drink my coffee, looking over the front yard. My gaze snags on Rhett, and I watch him walk down the driveway.
He’ll be fine. He always is.
“There you are.” Wren’s sweet voice fills my whole body with warmth.
She’s still in Elliot’s T-shirt, but this time she’s wearing panties. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to steal the ones she packed with her, or the ones we bought for her.
Regrettable.
“Missed me so much you just had to come find me?” I hold out my arm to her, and she settles into my lap.
We both watch Rhett together as he breaks into a jog. “Is he okay?”
My heart aches. “He hasn’t been okay in a long time, princess. But he’s…getting better.”
Frowning, she runs a hand over my hair. “And you? After last night?”
I swallow and look away. There’s a time and a place to open up to someone. Even then, it has to be therightperson. And while I can’t help but think that Wren might be that right person, it’s definitely at a terribly wrong time.
Maybe if we didn’t live lives that could potentially put her in danger.
Maybe if she didn’t keep looking at us like she’s afraid we’re going to break her heart.
Maybe if we could guarantee that we could keep her safe—physically and emotionally.
But those are all just wishes. Dreams. The reality is that, at the end of the night, we’re going to have to let her go—even though none of us want to.
She tilts her head, watching me, and I wonder what’s going on in her head. What doesshewant? What fears are holding her back?
It doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t work, anyway.
“Oliver?”
Right. She asked me a question.
“I’ll be fine, princess. We made it back safe, and your ex got what he deserved. Now, what do you want for breakfast? Eggs? Cereal? Waffles?”
She perks up. “Waffles, please.”
