All through dinner, I keep my eye on her. Assessing her face, watching her body language. I know the bow is about to break before it happens. I should have guessed it would be her father that adds the pressure to make it snap.
I respect Mr. Carson, and I want to help him. But I won’t allow his disease to be an excuse for treating Goldi like a punching bag. It’s beyond obvious he hasn’t healed from his wife’s death and Goldi’s taken the brunt of the fallout. She lost her mom, her dad, her brother, and me all in one go. My heart weeps for what she’s had to endure.
I’m thankful when she decides to get us out of the situation, instead of feeding into the toxic environment of her family dynamic. And even though she asked for a drive, I know where she really wants to go—what she really needs.
I’m not sure she’s in the right headspace to talk about us, but I’m hoping with a little bit of relaxation, we might be able to get her there. Fuck her family for making her deal with shit like this. For the thousandth time, I wonder why Jax and Becca aren’t around to help her carry the weight. I’m pretty confident she hasn’t told them. I don’t blame her, shame is a hell of an emotion. I felt it every day with my mom.
We get to the lake and I pull into our usual spot right on the bank. I look at Goldi. Her face is drawn and she’s lost in her thoughts. I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Come back to me, baby.
She turns, smiling. “Thank you for bringin’ me here. How’d you know this is exactly what I needed?”
“How many times do I have to tell you I know you before you start to believe me?”
She takes a deep breath, hopping out of the truck and running around the back. She jumps in the bed and starts laying out the afghan. My heart skips as I watch her. She’s so comfortable in my truck, by my side, with my things. With me.
I’m so busy staring, I don’t make a move to leave my seat. She pushes her hair out of her face and glances at me, her hands on her hips.
She speaks loud, making sure I hear every word through the back window. “Well, Chase Adams… you just gonna sit there like a dud, or you plannin’ on comin’ back here to woo me?”
My stomach somersaults as I open my door and walk around, leaning my arms over the side of the truck bed. I arch a brow. “Who said anything about wooing?”
She plops down on the afghan, her eyes twinkling. “I did. Just now. Your ears broke?”
“Maybe I don’t woo. You know it’s never been my strong suit,” I tease.
She rises on her knees, scooting closer to the side of the truck. “Lucky you have me here to practice on then, huh.”
My heart beats the fuck out of my chest. “Is that what this is? Practice?”
“No,” she whispers, pushing her body against the truck’s metal frame. “This is the main event.”
My eyes follow her fingers as they slide up my forearms and rest on my shoulders. Every nerve lights up at her touch. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
Her cheeks bloom and suddenly pink is my favorite fucking color. She leans her forehead against mine and her breath fans my face. “I’m tired of bein’ angry with you.”
The jagged pieces of my broken soul quiver, eager to mend. “You are?”
She nods.
“What would you rather be, instead?”
“Yours.”
I’m on her in the next breath, stealing the remnants of her words. Drowning in her forgiveness. Her mouth opens immediately, warm honey and vanilla coating my senses and slinking through my veins, heating me up from the inside.
Fuck.
Her tongue tangles with mine, and my entire being groans from the taste of her. Finally.
I reach around the back of her head to pull her in closer, my fingers knotting in her hair. I tug on the strands, and she gives me the sweetest moan. Fuck this truck for being in my way.
She rises up on her knees, leaning over the edge until her breasts push into my chest, her mouth pressing harder into mine. Her tongue delves deeper, then retreats only to be replaced by her teeth nipping my bottom lip. My cock jumps, jealous of my mouth.
The sound of laughter down the bank has me slowing our kiss, trying to regain some sense. Her hands clutch the fabric of my shirt, pulling me back. Like she’s desperate for more. I’ve dreamed of this moment, so I give in, losing myself in the euphoria of her touch.
Finally, I break away, my chest heaving.
Goldi grins at me, her eyes glazed, her cherry lips swollen.
My soul fucking sings.
I lean back in, pecking her lips and trailing a line of kisses along her face. My hand grasps the nape of her neck, my mouth resting against the shell of her ear. “Promise you’re mine?”
I feel her smile against my cheek. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Journal Entry #347
She’s mine. I’ll never lose her again.
38
Alina
Chase and I kissed our way back together, and all I want is to drag him to my place and make up for all the lost years between us. But he’s walking me to my door and leaving me there. Just a big ball of pent-up hormones and damp panties. He says he’s trying to be a gentleman.
He can leave the gentle. I’ll take the man.
Regardless, I’m floating through my tiny apartment on a cloud. I’m
