Chapter 17
seventeen
Cash
Maisy might have been right when she told me days ago it was a bad idea to bring Georgia home with us—just not for the reason she thinks.
I didn’t know it would be this hard. Watching how she fits into our family, seeing the way my mom adores her, wanting to pull her aside and kiss her or reach out to touch her hand, admiring her from across the table and wondering if she’s decided yet that she’s ready to be with me.
Every second I’m around her, I want her more, and I’m certain I can’t wait any longer to make her mine.
That night, after a long shower, I change into sweats, arrange Jangles in her bed at the foot of my own, and flop down, exhausted by the fight to keep my feelings inside. I’m in love with this girl, and until a few hours ago, I didn’t even know her birthday. If that’s a bad sign, I’m ignoring it.
Keeping my promise to give her space this weekend is starting to feel like the fight of a lifetime, haunted like I am by memories of what happened Wednesday night.
Of seeing Georgia unmasked, seeing the real woman behind the sweet smile and calm demeanor, the words and sounds she keeps hidden under thick armor.
I wonder if anyone else has ever seen her so raw?
The notion fires up something fierce deep inside me.
All along, I was falling for that sweetness of hers, but now I want to know what lies beneath her serene surface.
I’m craving her, the whole person with an ugly side, an out-of-control side, a side she wants so badly to keep secret.
I want to know who Georgia Grant is. I want to be the only man who sees all of her.
It scares me how good one person can make me feel.
She likes my himbo moments, but she also sees my intelligence.
She doesn’t think I’m too much; or if she does, she likes it anyway.
And she trusts me—to take care of her, to take care of her house, to take care of my own life without acting like if I get it wrong, all hell will break loose.
Out in the hall, I catch the thin whine of the guest room door opening and closing, its hinges too old and stubborn to be wrestled into submission by a can of WD-40. Then my sister’s confident footsteps and, finally, the familiar click of her door shutting.
Georgia’s alone now.
I remember what she said to me on the phone.
When you want something, you don’t give up until you get it, do you?
I’ve never thought of myself like that, more like the guy who causes a scene but still does what’s expected of him.
Takes care of the family, goes back home to settle down, lets go of childish dreams. Now I’m not so sure.
Georgia makes me feel like the man I want to be.
After checking that Jangles is asleep, I head out into the hallway.
The oak floor creaks beneath my feet, and I pause outside the guest room to listen for any sounds, then knock softly. “Georgia? It’s me.”
Nothing. Maybe she’s asleep. I want to check on her, but barging in feels wrong. And then the door opens, and there she is in her white pajamas, her hair tied into a loose braid that hangs to her chest. But my smile halts before it can form at the sight of her puffy, red-rimmed eyes.
I don’t wait to be invited, pushing inside as my chest swells with hurt and the urge to fix it.
Georgia sighs with relief as soon as the door closes on us.
When she throws her arms around me and holds on like she’s been waiting days for this hug, I’m overwhelmed by how much I want to protect her.
She speaks my name, her voice muffled against my neck, and then she’s crying again.
“Baby,” I coo, stroking her hair. “Did something happen?”
She shakes her head, only managing to whisper, “It’s being here.”
I hold her tighter, regret squeezing my insides. “I didn’t know it would be this bad for you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I brought you here. I don’t want you to hurt like this.”
For a minute, she clings to me, sniffing and hiccuping through her sobs. Then she takes a shuddering breath and stares up at me. “That’s the thing, it’s not bad. It’s good. Being here feels so good.”
I nod and lead her over to the bed, where she sits as close to me as she can get. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Your family is amazing, Cash. I want what you guys have.”
“So be part of our family.”
She laughs and wipes away a tear. “You just say whatever pops into your mind, don’t you?”
“Only if it’s true.”
“I can’t just become part of your family. It doesn’t work like that.”
“You can be here with us. You can come home with us for every holiday and every long weekend. You think my parents wouldn’t have it? They fucking love you. And…and so do I.”
She gives me a placating smile.
“No, I do. I love you, Georgia.”
Her smile evaporates. But instead of doubt, I feel stronger with the words echoing between us. It doesn’t matter how briefly we’ve known each other; Georgia sees things in me my own family doesn’t. She sees it all.
“And it’s okay if you don’t say it. It’s even okay if you don’t feel it because I know you will when you’re ready.”
She squeezes my hand. “You know that those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard, right?”
“I hope so.”
“You also know that I don’t know what to do with them.”
“Still,” I say, disappointment threatening to crush me.
She nods but says nothing else.
“What do you wish you could do with them?”
“You know what I wish.”
“Georgia. You are an angel on earth, but you confuse the hell out of me, darling. You’ve told me you want this. And I’m telling you you can have it. Where are we losing each other? What is this story you insist on telling where you can’t end up with me?”
“Because I’m scared of what’s going to happen to me and Maisy. And I’m scared of—god, I sound nuts—maybe I’m scared of not being alone.” Voice trembling, she adds, “I know how to be alone, and I’m okay with it. I’m used to it.”
“You might be used to it, but you’re not okay with it, Georgia.”
“I’m a loner—always have been. It’s easier. Back home, I didn’t feel this ache all the time like I do when I’m with you.”
“If being alone is so good for you, why do you keep coming back for more of us? You light up when we hang out with my friends, you come alive when you dance with me. You tell me how amazing your life was when you had a family, when you were surrounded by people who love you. Don’t you want all of it again?
Me, our friends, this family. And maybe someday starting a family of your own, loving someone the way your mom and dad loved you.
If you wanted to be alone, you and I would have fizzled out that first night I came up to you at the Phantom. ”
She takes a deep breath, her shoulders shuddering like her emotions are overflowing. “Yes. I want all of it. But I don’t think that’s the life I’m destined to have.”
“Destiny’s a lie, my love. I see your strength. Telling me you’re lonely couldn’t change that.”
A steely veil slips over her eyes—she doesn’t want me to see the truth—but she blinks it away. “It’s hard for me to tell myself that, let alone you. My story has always been that I’m okay alone.”
“Are you?”
A moment of quiet passes before she whispers, “No.”
“Then let me love you, Georgia.”
“Okay.” Her voice is soft and achingly sweet, her brows gathering like she’s gone weak. “Love me, Cash.”
Love and possessiveness surge inside my chest. Her gaze drops longingly to my mouth, and then I’m kissing her and pulling her body into mine, promising I’m never going to let her feel alone again.
Hunger flows from her lips as she kisses me—from her soft hands as she wraps them around the nape of my neck.
I edge her back onto her elbows, and she doesn’t hesitate, only reaches for me when I move to straddle her waist. Dropping my hips, I press my swollen cock against her, and she rasps my name.
Her voice is so animal, it shrinks the world down to nothing but me, her, and the electric air between us.
Georgia’s always so easygoing, so unshakable.
I’ve loved that about her since I met her.
But the way her body hides nothing when I’m giving her what she likes drives me wild.
The moment I touch her, she becomes anything but unshakable.
“Georgia,” I murmur between kisses. “Tell me you want this as much as I do. We picked the worst place and worst time to finally fuck, but nothing except you could stop me.”
“Don’t stop,” she says breathlessly, and the relief that pours through me could move mountains.
My mind goes back to the words Maisy used to describe her when I was warned to keep away: sweet. Innocent. That she is, but exactly how innocent? Because it might not change the fact that I have to get this perfect for her, but it does change what perfect might look like.
“Georgia.” I kiss her neck, pulling in greedy breaths of her hypnotic scent and filling my lungs with her. “Are you a virgin?”
“No,” she says on a moan.
Thank fuck. Much as I loathe the idea of her being with any other man, I love the fact I can take her as hard and rough as I want even more.
This girl means everything to me, and it would kill me if I hurt her, but my cock can’t recognize the line between love and wanting to put her through the fucking mattress.
I sit up, my knees tight on either side of her waist, and tug my shirt over my head.
I’ve taken my shirt off in front of a lot of girls—partying shirtless became my thing somewhere along the way—and I’ve had my share of good reactions, but fuck if Georgia’s stunned face isn’t the best reception I’ve received in my life.
“Oh,” she sighs, reaching for me as though she can’t help herself and running her spread palms hungrily up my stomach like she’s soaking herself in my body. Pride surges within me. I could live off the lust-drunk look on her face for life. “God, you’re gorgeous.”
“Likewise, my love.”
“Your tattoos…” She traces a finger over the lit candle inked into my chest, her touch sending bolts of heat straight to my groin.
“Like ’em?”