Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
MILES
“Can I sing for you?”
I froze, my hand hovering over her from where I had been softly stroking the skin on her back. “Please.”
If it sounded like I was begging, it’s because I was.
She had been piecing together fragments of melodies, letting snippets of lyrics slip under her breath, and humming around the house since the day she arrived.
But she hadn’t sung a full song, at least not where I could hear.
And I had been too afraid to ask, afraid that she’d think I was chasing some fantasy of Loxley Adams singing for me.
But this wasn’t about Loxley Adams. This was about her.
Backing away, she slid off the bed, moving with quiet grace, like she was afraid to disturb something fragile in the air between us.
She tiptoed into the living room, and I let my head fall back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as I listened to her footsteps retreat.
The room felt colder without her. The space between us too wide.
When she returned, the guitar was in her hands.
She strummed it idly as she climbed back onto the bed, settling in front of me, her legs crossed.
We were both still naked, but she pulled a pillow onto her lap before resting the guitar on top.
I sat up straighter, bracing myself against the headboard.
The sheet was still pulled over my lower half, but I felt completely exposed.
She ran her fingers over the strings, testing the chords.
“I wrote this one at your parents’ house,” she said softly. “Or at least, that’s where it started. I’ll never be allowed to sing this one on an album, but I want you to hear it before I have to leave.”
She wasn’t leaving.
I had already made up my mind about that. I didn’t care what it took. If I had to build a studio onto my house, if I had to handcuff her to the damn wall, she wasn’t going anywhere.
But I stayed quiet in that moment, watching as she steadied herself, fingers poised on the strings, eyes meeting mine in silent confirmation.
“Ready?” she asked.
I nodded once, locking my jaw so she wouldn’t see what she was already doing to me.
And then she began to sing. Her voice was soft at first, just a breath of melody, but it settled into my bones immediately.
“I never met you, but I feel you here,
In the way he loves, in the strength he bears.
Through the ashes, you gave him life,
A man who’s gentle, a man who’s right.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
Her voice wrapped around me, squeezed, pressed into the cracks of me I hadn’t realized were still open wounds.
“The fire may have taken you away,
But your legacy is alive every day.”
My throat burned, my vision blurred at the edges.
I felt like I’d been stripped raw, like she’d reached inside me and pulled something out that I had buried so deep, I’d forgotten it was even there.
I was so young when I lost them, it felt so distant.
But she had brought me right back to how deep their loss still lived in me.
I had spent my whole life learning how to avoid and suppress the emotions that her words were eliciting in me.
Helpless. Vulnerable.
Two things I had never allowed myself to be. Two things I had been trained to ignore.
When the last note faded into silence, I couldn’t speak. I reached for her instead, pulling her into my arms, burying my face in her hair as I held on tight.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t push, just let me breathe her in. I knew she was waiting for me to say something, to tell her what I thought, but I had no words. So I just held her tighter and hoped she could feel how much it meant to me.
Loxley and I had fallen asleep tangled together, but the sharp, relentless pounding on my front door ripped me from sleep. My heart slammed into my ribs, instincts firing as I jolted upright.
Beside me, Loxley stirred, groggy and confused.
“Stay here,” I murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before slipping out of bed.
I threw on the first clothes I could grab, my mind already racing.
There was no reason for anyone to be here that early.
I mostly kept to myself, aside from the occasional visit from Easton.
But ever since he’d met Jesse, those visits had become fewer and farther between.
Linc may stop by, but he was on duty, I knew that for sure.
And West? A workaholic who lived in Atlanta?
No way in hell he’d be pounding on my door like a lunatic on a Friday morning.
As I moved through the house, I suddenly became hyper aware of the evidence that Loxley was there.
Her fuzzy house shoes sat abandoned by the couch.
One of her oversized sweaters hung over the back of a chair.
A scattering of notes covered the coffee table, her scrawled handwritten lyrics on the pages.
And, at some point, she must have ordered a tiny pink vacuum, because I damn near broke my neck tripping over it.
The sight of it all sent a strange warmth through me, which was weird, because I didn’t need a pink vacuum. The proof that she was there, in my space, fitting into my life like she had always belonged, was suddenly a peaceful feeling.
But that also meant whoever was at the door was about to find out that I wasn’t living alone anymore.
Still half-dressed, I didn’t bother peeking out first, I just yanked the door open, stepping into the frame to block the entrance.
Only, the second I saw who was standing there, my stomach dropped, because they were the only two people I wouldn’t send away.
“Gramps, Grams, come on in.” I sighed, stepping aside. “Must be important if you’re banging on my door like maniacs.”
Grams didn’t even acknowledge my greeting before she reached up and patted my face in that absentminded way she always did, as if checking to make sure I was eating or sleeping enough.
Gramps followed her inside with a gruff nod. “We just thought it was time to check on you.”
I exhaled through my nose. “I wasn’t gonna miss Sunday dinner again, I promise.”
Grams completely ignored me, already making a beeline for the kitchen as she rustled through the bag she’d been carrying.
Gramps chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, we were on our way to the grocery store, and your Grams here decided it would be fun to stop in.” He smirked. “She even baked you an apple pie.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Oh… well, I appreciate that. I missed y’all. Things have been crazy with this new mission the captain put me on.”
Grams reappeared from the kitchen, her hands on her hips, wearing a knowing smile that instantly put me on edge.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “About that.”
I swallowed. Shit.
Her eyes twinkled, that infuriating, all-knowing smirk widening. “Rumor has it you completed that mission.”
My stomach clenched.
Gramps chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying himself.
Grams took a slow step forward, her smile turning downright smug.
“And I’m dying to hear all about it.”
“It’s classified,” I shrugged, keeping my face neutral.
Grams wasn’t buying it. She casually picked up Lox’s sweater from the chair, running her fingers over the fabric before holding it to her chest with an approving smile.
“This is cute,” she mused. Then, without missing a beat, she added, “It matches the condoms I left on the counter in the kitchen.”
I damn near choked. Coughing and sputtering, I reached out to snatch the sweater from her, but she held onto it like she had all the time in the world. Meanwhile, Gramps was no help whatsoever, his deep, rumbling laugh filling the room as he leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the show.
“This was funnier when you did it to Easton,” I muttered under my breath, knowing there was no point in denying anything.
Loxley’s things were scattered everywhere. Her presence was impossible to hide. And if I looked anything like I felt, it was obvious I had “just gotten laid.”
Grams just smirked, victorious.
And I had a sinking feeling I wasn’t getting out of this conversation unscathed.