I knew his giant heart had objected to being released from the weight of the HGV and thrown out rhythms chaotic enough to nearly kill him.
Orla rose to intercept Nash, swiping the tool case and the guitar bag. “You’re going to faceplant one of these days.”
“As long as I land on your tits, I don’t care.” Nash eased himself onto the couch beside me, his shoulder brushing mine, his good leg radiating warmth through my skin. He patted his pockets for his smokes. Caught himself and stopped. He’d quit. In solidarity, so had I, but I wasn’t sure we’d last.
Nash unzipped the guitar bag, pulling out an instrument that didn’t look all that broken to me. “Saint put it back together,” he explained to whatever my face was doing. “I don’t know how. Last time I looked it was in a million pieces.”
“What happened to it?”
Nash glanced at Orla.
She came closer, perching on the arm of the couch.
Nash took a breath and gave me his attention again. “I smashed it up sleepwalking while you were missing. It was the worst night I’d ever had.”
Guilt bloomed in my gut. I pushed it down. My head was still fuckin’ messy, but these good days with the people I loved... I wasn’t losing them to shit I couldn’t change. “Will it play the same?”
“It’ll play better.” Nash flashed me a grin that healed all wounds. “Saint’s a boss at mending broken things.”
So are you, baby.
Nash got busy with the guitar, his skilled hands entrancing me as much as the rest of him. Watching him work, it was easy to forget that he’d been crushed under an articulated lorry less than two weeks ago. That he’d nearly died so my kids could walk away from a serious road accident without a scratch.
It wasn’t as easy to forget that I’d spent the weeks leading up to that night making his life hell, but I tried.Fuck, I tried.
Don’t lose these moments.
It’s what I told Cam when I caught him drifting away. What Folk had told me when he’d realised the frayed parts of me that I’d held together for so long were finally coming apart.
Don’t lose these moments.
Nash’s hair hung over his eyes.
I tucked it behind his ears, living for the boyish smile he sent my way. Theshysmile, as if he still couldn’t believe what we had was real life.
“Oh my god.” Orla surged from the arm of the couch. “You two are killing my ovaries. I’ll be counting stock in the bar if you need me.”
I did need her. Always. But I’d noticed she liked to leave us alone sometimes. Just like I made sure she and Nash got time for each other too. Did we need that? I didn’t know. But I loved these quiet moments with Nash as much as I loved her.
Loved the way his fair brows furrowed when he was focused.
The way he bit his lip.
The way he owned every damn thing he turned his hand to.
None of it was new, but something about it felt different now. Despite lingering pain from his horrific injuries, there was an ease to Nash that had been absent for as long as I could remember. All the worry and stress he’d been carrying seemed to be gone, as though almost dying had completely shifted his mindset.
Or he didn’t realise how close to death he’d come, but I didn’t think too long on that. If he didn’t know, I’d take what I’d read in the accident reports to my fuckin’ grave.
Nash finished fucking around with his tools. He strummed mellow chords on the guitar, humming to himself. I snapped a picture on my phone and sent it to Willow, grateful mygrown-upgirl’s chaotic brain never lingered on the bad stuff. That once she’d seen for herself that Nash and Cam were okay, she’d put it behind her. By now, her biggest concern seemed to be my smoking status. And that she’d accidentally told Kara that I was in a three-way relationship, but I didn’t care about that. Kara could think what she liked about my love life. If anything, I owed her an apology. She’dwarnedme Willow was on the cusp of making a shitty decision. If I’d acted sooner, this wouldn’t have happened?—
Yes, it would.
“Whoa.” Nash stopped playing and set the guitar aside, rubbing his eyes.
I shook off my mood, hyper-focused on him. “What’s up?”
“I’m so tired.”