Page 47 of Decked, Wrecked and Pucked
“Always,” he answers with a smile.
“I’m serious…”
“I know. And I promise I’m good. I’m just thinking about those two.”
“Roman and Addie?” He nods. “Whether he wants to admit it or not, things will move forward between them. And yeah, it’s gonna mess him up, but it’s the only way he heals. The only way they both do.”
“He’s going to get so lost in his head,” Zeke murmurs.
“I know.” I pause, pressing my forehead to his. “But I also know this is going somewhere. I know she’s not walking away from us.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, brushing my thumb across his cheek. “I really do.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
ROMAN
By the timewe finally got food today, we were all a little wrecked. I lost my damn mind over what went down between Addie and Jasper, and I didn’t even try to hide it. Tasting her again took me straight back to those winter nights when she’d grind against my face, soaking my mouth and my chin, always so desperate to come she’d barely let me breathe.
I wonder if Jasper got her to tremble the same way.
Of course he did.
The guy could probably make her come with nothing but a look.
There’s been a weird energy hanging over us tonight—a kind of restless tension none of us seem able to shake, no matter how many casual conversations we attempt or how hard we try to pretend everything’s normal. Maybe we just need a little time to ourselves, to rest and breathe and get used to sharing the same space over the next few days.
Or maybe we’re all quietly dreading what comes after the weekend, when we pack up and return to our lives and Addie stays behind.
I know I’m not making things any easier for anyone when it comes to Addison, but the truth is, I don’t know how to do this any differently.
When you grow up being passed around from house to house, feeling like you mean nothing to nobody, you learn not to get too comfortable, and you stop expecting to matter.Nobody asks what you need. Nobody cares what you want. They just count down the days until you’re someone else’s responsibility.
Then one day, when you finally find your home in someone—the kind of home that feels safe, that feels like yours—only to have her burn it to the fucking ground, it doesn’t just change you. It rewires you and forces you to keep people at arm’s length, even when part of you is still desperate to be let in.
I’ve been lying beside Zeke for over an hour now, staring at the ceiling like it might finally give me the answers my brain won’t stop chasing. Both of my guys can fall asleep as soon as their heads touch the pillow. Me? I’ve got insomnia that fucks me sideways and a brain that won’t shut up, no matter how tired I am.
Addison went to bed early tonight. We had a quiet dinner, and afterward she said she wanted to read on her phone for a while. Disappearing into a book and finding peace between the pages has always been her thing, so it didn’t surprise me one bit that she opened a bookstore.
I’m never getting any sleep if I just lie here thinking about her.
I haul myself out of bed and drag my restless ass to the kitchen. What I want is coffee, strong, black coffee, but that’s a hell of a stupid idea when I’m already wired, so I reach for the whiskey instead.
Screw it, it’s almost Christmas, and at this point, I think half the country is running on booze anyway.
Leaning against the counter, the cold marble bites into my spine, but I barely notice anymore. Years on the ice haveconditioned me to the cold and made it something I seek rather than avoid.
I'm standing here in nothing but black boxer briefs, glass half full in my hand, sipping slowly and letting the whiskey spread fire through my chest when footsteps echo down the hall.
I figure it’s Zeke or Jasper—those two always track me down if I’m not where I’m supposed to be.
Needy bastards, but I wouldn't have them any other way.
Except it's not either of them standing in the doorway.
