Hands inevitably wandered into sensitive areas after that, stroking, seeking, petting and probing until our breaths grew rapid, my legs became weak, and the water began to run cold.
This time, he carried me from the shower to the bed wrapped in a towel that he used to dry and tease my body with. There was no violence left in us, just adoration and a need for one another that never seemed to dissipate. I never wanted it to.
We made love and passed out tangled in one another, and for the first time in weeks, I slept deep and well with the man I worshipped lying next to me.
I woke up alone the next morning, but there was a vague memory of a kiss to my forehead as the sun began filling the room, as well as a whispered admission of love before I fell back asleep. This was reinforced by the fullness that seemed to surround my heart, and the smile I couldn’t seem to get rid of. Gone was the ever-present sense of dread and fear that had followed me around like a shadow.
Life wasn’t perfect. It probably never would be but having Drew by my side meant whatever nightmare was thrown at us next would be a little easier to face.
Then I remembered he still wanted to marry me.
Soon.
My smile spread like the sun at dawn, and I rolled into his pillow and buried my face there, breathing him in until he was all I could smell. I wrapped him around me and held all of the hope I’d somehow regained even closer. In one night withhim, weeks of anxiety and panic had finally eased off, and my world was slowly starting to turn again.
I sure wasn’t leading the charge for feminism with that kind of thinking, but when you were this deep in love—when you were this surrounded by the things you wanted most in life, did that really make any difference?
Nope.
Not even a little bit.
Especially not when my body was aching so delightfully from the night before.
I could have basked in the memories for hours, but in The Hut, peace was subjective to the goings on at any given time. Today wasn’t going to allow me what I wanted, and that came in the form of a knock.
“Who is it?” I called out, pulling the comforter over my body and glaring at the clock next to the bed.
“Kenny.”
“Is it urgent?”
“Depends.” I could hear the smile in his voice, but that didn’t leave me any less confident. His idea and my idea of urgency were utterly different.
“Five minutes.”
“You got it. I’ll make some coffee.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Kenny.”
I listened to the heavy fall of his boots move away from the door until they blended into the constant din of noise that filled The Hut every hour of every day, and I peeled the blankets away from my body with a sigh of resignation.
It didn’t take me long to get ready. A quick shower, a brush of my teeth, and I was padding through the bar wearing my usual jeans, a tank top, and a hoodie before slipping onto astool and making grabby hands at the mug Kenny was holding out for me.
“Morning, sunshine.”
I wrapped both hands around the mug and slid it to me with a grin of my own. “Good morning.”
“Good?”
“Are you about to ruin it for me?” I asked, inhaling the scent of coffee before taking a sip.
“Possibly. Sloane called me from school.”
I groaned and made a hand gesture for him to continue.
“We have a problem.”
“Tate?” I asked, sliding the mug onto the counter and covering my eyes.