Page 122 of The Love You Fight For
He sends me a wink, then jogs to his truck and pulls it out from behind the reporter’s car so Chris’s coworker from the garage can hook the car up to the tow truck.
“What the fuck,” the reporter yelps, jumping out of his car. “You can’t tow me. I have a right to be here!”
Chris walks back to me and slings his arm over my shoulders, then points to the sign posted in front of the reporter’s car.
Private Property. Parking for The Outpost Customers Only. Towing Enforced.
“I did tell you it was private property,” I tell him with a shrug.
Chris’s coworker ignores the reporter’s blustering and goes about his job, hooking the car up to the tow truck.
“Your car will be taken to Franklin Auto Body,” Chris tells Chad. “You can square the fine away with them. Come here again, and I’ll call the cops on you for trespassing, and then I’ll press charges.”
Without another word, Chris turns us around and leads me up the stairs to my apartment.
“Are you okay?” Chris asks once the apartment door is shut behind us.
He runs his hands up and down my arms and scans his eyes over my body. His movements are jerky, his jaw tight, and he’s visibly agitated.
“I’m fine.” I sigh. “How did you get here so fast?”
Chris shrugs.
“It’s a two-minute drive from the garage. I was on the way as soon as that fucker pulled into the lot.”
“And the tow truck?” I ask with an arched brow, and he smirks.
“I had Andre follow me with it just in case.”
I shake my head.
“So you stalk the security cameras now?”
“Yes.” He nods unashamedly, folding his arms across his broad chest in a show of defiance. “And I’m not going to apologize for it. I told you. I’m here. I’m not letting you go through any of this shit alone. If that means stalking you on security cameras and following you around with a hose and a tow truck, then that’s what I’ll be doing. Gladly.”
I close my eyes and tilt my head to the ceiling, gritting my teeth against the urge to lash out. My impulse is to argue. To tell him to back off and let me handle it. My instinct is to push as hard as I can against it. But then his warm hand wraps around my neck, his calloused fingers brushing over my jaw and resting on the pulse point below my ear. His lips press to my forehead, and like magic,the tension bleeds from my body, and all I want to do is melt into him.
“That’s better,” he whispers. His lips drag over my skin as he speaks and kisses me again. “Don’t push me away. Let me do this with you.”
I breathe him in, picturing a small cabin on a lake surrounded by pine trees, and then I nod. When he wraps his arms around my body, I let myself relax into him and thread my hands around his waist. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his inhales and exhales, to his steady, strong heartbeat.
“Okay,” I say after a moment. “Thank you.”
I wonder how long it will take me to get used to this—to having someone else in my corner besides Lennon. To trusting a man with my whole heart.
It goes against everything I’ve ever known.
I have twenty-six years of experience-based instincts directly revolting against the idea of being vulnerable with him, but fuck, my body wants it. My heart wants it. I just have to get my head on board.
When Chris tilts my chin up with his fingers and takes my lips in a soft, reassuring kiss, I know for certain he’ll wait patiently for me. He’ll be here. He’ll show up, time and time again, until I’ve worked through all my demons. He’ll take me exactly as I am, and it will be more than enough for him.
Not for the first time, the words dance on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say them.
Not yet.
“When do you have to get Lennon’s car back to her?” he asks after he releases me.
“She said I can borrow it as long as I need it, but I’m going to brunch with her tomorrow, so I’ll make her take it back then.”
