Page 47 of Wrapped Up In You
“I said yes.”
“Really?”
His fingers dug into the nape of my neck as he chewed on his lip and nodded his head twice.
A slow smile spread across my face, joy radiating through my body as I lunged at him, sloshing bourbon everywhere in my haste to wrap my arms around him. “Shit. Sorry.” I set the glass down on the coffee table and then swiped at him with my bare hands, but Hayden pushed them away in favor of pulling me into a hug.
“What I said on the porch—right as my mom opened the door—I was trying to tell you I didn’t want to keep us a secret anymore. I was having second thoughts aboutthat,not us.”
“I thought maybe you were going to call the whole thing off. But the more I thought about it once I got home, the more I realized that didn’t make sense. You wouldn’t have called it off and then stood by me like you did with my dad.” I pulled back to look at him. “Thanks for that, by the way. For standing behind me like you did. It gave me the strength to say what I needed to say.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Lucy. I’ve always got your back.” He kissed me tenderly, just a brush of his lips against mine. “I was so damn proud of you.”
“Oh. Um, thanks. I want to say that it felt good to get all that off my chest, but it really didn’t. It felt awful.” I let out a breath, running my hand through my hair. “Don’t get me wrong, it needed to be said, and I’m glad I did, but that doesn’t mean it felt good. My dad really did do a lot for me growing up, and I do appreciate it. I don’t want him to think I don’t. I don’t want him to think I’m selfish.”
“You’re not selfish, Lucy. But feelings and relationships are complicated. You can feel appreciative in some ways and neglected in others. Both can be true. And owning your feelings, calling him out on all the ways he fell short, isn’t selfish. I think you were damn brave for doing it.”
I leaned forward again, pressing my forehead to his and breathing him in. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve him, but I would spend the rest of my life doing my damndest to keep him. No one had ever made me feel as good as he did. The fact that he loved me was a fucking miracle.
“Hay?”
“Yeah?”
I brushed his hair back off his face, looking into those chocolate pools I could spend hours getting lost in. “I love you too.”
He smiled wide, my golden retriever of a boyfriend lighting up from the inside out. He popped off the couch, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up. I’d barely gotten my feet under me when he began tugging me down the hall.
“Where are we going?”
“To bed. You’re going to show me how much.”
My brow creased in confusion. “How much, what?”
He looked at me over his shoulder, pausing at the door to my bedroom. “How much you love me.” He winked and pulled me through the door.
26
HAYDEN
December 31
Inspired by Lucy’s confrontation with Jon last night, I’d texted my dad and asked if I could stop by the house this afternoon. I was nervous but also, strangely, excited. For the first time in my life, I had direction. I had a goal I’d set my sights on, something that was for me and not anyone else. It was time I started creating a life that I could be proud of. Something that excited me and set fire to my soul. I hoped my father could support me, but if not…well, we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.
I knocked on the door, shivering in the December chill. Lucy had wanted to come with me, to be a support in the same way I had been for him, but I’d decided that shoving my relationship with my stepbrother in my father’s face at the same time I was telling him I was pursuing a music career, might be a lot for him to take.
The door swung open, and I was greeted by my thirteen-year-old half-sister. She barely looked up from her phone as she stood back to allow me to enter. “Dad’s back in his office,” she said without looking up.
“Thanks, brat,” I said as I ruffled her hair.
“Hey!” she called out as I walked away.
I made my way to Dad’s office, knocking lightly on the open door before crossing the threshold into the room. He looked up from his computer, offering me a distracted smile. “Hey. Have a seat. I just need to finish up this email.”
Too nervous to sit, I opted to stay standing, instead crossing over to the bookshelf to look at the framed photographs mixed in among books and other knick-knacks my stepmother no doubt had a hand in choosing.
“Hayden! It’s so good to see you!” Jessica, my stepmom, appeared in the open doorway, a basket of laundry on her hip, her long auburn hair in a single braid down her back. I walked over and hugged her. Even one-handed, she gave the best hugs. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Oh, no thanks, I’m good.”
