Page 32 of Where the Little Birds Are (Little Bird Duet 2)

I swipe my thumb across her cheeks. “I wish I could make this all better. Tell me what I need to do, Little Bird.”

Moving my hand away from her face, she squeezes it and drops our hold. “Promise me you’ll be there for me no matter what.”

“Done,” is my instant response.

“Corbin—”

“We mess up,” I cut her off, trying to make her see this is it for me. For us. “That’s reality, Kinley. People mess up but that doesn’t mean we have to ruin a beautiful thing. There shouldn’t be a limited number of chances before giving it all up because nobody gets it perfect no matter how many times they try to.”

“Corb—”

“Please.” My voice cracks. “There is a lot I can’t undo—what Lena has said, what the media has said, whatever happened between you and Parker. But I can do my fucking best to make you see that none of that matters. It should only matter what we know to be true. And that’s what’s between us. A past. A present. A future.”

She closes her eyes, letting tears stream in ragged lines down her cheeks. “You’re going to be a dad.”

Chapter Twelve

Kinley / 17

French vanilla wafts in the air as the crackling fire breaks the silence around us. I flutter my eyes and note the soft cotton material I’m using a pillow, before my palm reaches up and caresses a soft rising chest.

“Sorry,” I whisper, sitting up and rubbing my eyes with my fisted palms. I glance up at the dark, starry sky. “It’s pretty out tonight.”

He stays on the ground, hands folded across his chest. “You were tired. Lay back down, Little Bird. I was comfortable.”

Rolling my eyes, I do as he says and rest my cheek against him. “I’m going to miss this," I tell him, hefting a sigh.

He wraps an arm around me, leaning his head on mine. “We still have time. I don’t leave until the end of the month.”

Lips weighing down, I listen to his heartbeat. His eighteenth birthday present to himself was a contract with Mark King, his new manager. He already has three auditions for new parts, all in Los Angeles. Apparently Mark has a place for Corbin to stay in L.A. while he auditions. He’s already been guaranteed one commercial appearance, which he’s shooting in a few weeks.

“Are you excited?”

His hand stills the gentle movements on my upper arm. “Yes.”

“Will you miss me?”

He squeezes me, chuckling. “Are you fishing for compliments, Little Bird? You know I’m going to miss you.”

Blowing out a breath, I brush my hands against his stomach. “It’s going to be weird without you telling me random fun facts about Stephen King.”

“I’m sure you’ll really miss that.”

“For sure.”

We lay like that for another few quiet moments, just holding each other and absorbing one another’s warmth. My hand trails up his stomach, resting just above his heart. Brows pinching when I feel the slightest uplift of rigid skin beneath the pad of my thumb, I sit up and stare down at him in curiosity.

His silver eyes light up as they stare back at me, pressing my hand harder against him. “I want to show you something.”

He sits up and reaches behind him, pulling his tee off with one yank over his head. My eyes trail down to his left pec, where two little black lines rest. They’re still slightly red as I gently brush my finger against them.

“These are real?”

He picks up my hand and kisses the fingers before dropping them back onto his bare skin. “I got them earlier today.”

I sit on my knees and study the simplicity of each line—like tally marks. ?

??Why lines?”

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