Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Harrison
I hear the car before I see it.
The low hum of the engine cuts through the quiet night, gravel crunching beneath the tires as Scott pulls into the driveway.
I'm already on my feet before he even parks, stepping off the porch and moving toward him.
My pulse is steady, but there's a heaviness in my chest that hasn't eased since he left for his parents' house.
And then he's here.
The second he opens the door, I close the distance between us, grabbing him and pulling him into my arms. He's trembling. Not shivering from the cold, not shaking from exhaustion. The kind of tremble that comes from heartbreak, from having your foundation ripped out from under you.
I tighten my grip, one hand pressing into the back of his head, the other around his waist, holding him as close as I can.
"I'm so sorry, babe," I murmur against his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "We'll get through this together."
His arms circle my back, clinging to me like I'm the only thing holding him upright. Maybe I am.
A few long, silent moments pass before he pulls back just enough to look at me. His blue eyes are red-rimmed, glistening with the weight of what he's just lost. But beneath the heartbreak, there's something else. Something raw and determined.
His voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, "Do you still want to marry me?"
I don't hesitate. Not for a second. "I do."
His breath catches, and something shifts in his expression. The hurt is still there, lingering at the edges, but relief settles in too.
Scott exhales a shaky breath, his fingers curling into my shirt. "Then my answer is yes."
Something inside me snaps. Not in a bad way. Not in a way that feels like breaking. This is something else entirely.
Because no matter what happened tonight, no matter what his father said or what his mother couldn't, Scott chose us. And that's all I need.
I tilt my head, capturing his lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. His breath stutters against my mouth before he melts into it, his fingers tightening in my shirt. I guide him backward toward the house, never breaking the kiss, needing him to feel everything I can't put into words.
We barely make it inside before I kick the door shut and press him against it.
His breath is warm, uneven. "Harrison—"
"I've got you," I whisper, brushing my lips against his jaw, his throat, the spot just below his ear that makes him shudder.
He needs this. He needs something to anchor him and remind him he's not alone. And God, I need this too.
I slide my hands down his back, gripping the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He shivers at the loss of fabric, but I cover him with my hands, my mouth, as I trail kisses along his collarbone, down the center of his chest.
Scott exhales sharply, his head falling back against the door. "Bedroom," he murmurs, his fingers threading through my hair, tugging lightly.
I don't argue. Instead, I grab his wrist and guide him toward the bedroom. Our steps are hurried, driven by something neither of us can name but both of us need.
The second we reach the room, Scott tugs me forward, his hands fisting in my shirt as he crashes his mouth against mine. It's desperate now. Raw, messy, all-consuming. I push him back until his legs hit the bed, and he sits heavily, pulling me down with him.
I follow, pressing him down against the mattress, bracing myself over him. His breath is hot against my lips, his fingers threading into my hair, pulling me closer.
I kiss him again, deeper this time, my tongue sweeping against his, swallowing the soft sounds he makes.
Scott arches beneath me, his hands dragging over my back and my shoulders.
He pulls at my own shirt until I strip it off and toss it aside.
His touch is urgent now, desperate, his breath coming in short bursts as he pushes his hips up, seeking friction.
I give him what he wants. Sliding my hands down his sides, I pop the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down slowly just to hear the way his breath hitches. I tug them down, along with his boxers, and he lets out a shaky groan as I wrap my hand around him, stroking him slowly.
"Harrison." His voice is already wrecked, his fingers digging into my arms.
I kiss him again, swallowing every sound, every gasp, until he's pulling at my jeans. His desperation mirroring my own. Clothes hit the floor in quick succession.
And then it's just us. Skin against skin, warmth against warmth.
I press my forehead against his, slowing for just a second, giving him a chance to pull back if he wants to. But he doesn't. His hands slide down my back, his legs parting beneath me, a silent plea.
"I love you," I whisper against his lips, my hand sliding between us, wrapping around him. I stroke him slowly, savoring the way his breath hitches, his body arching into my touch.
Scott lets out a shaky exhale, his fingers tightening against my shoulders as I keep up the rhythm, dragging my thumb over his tip, coaxing more of those quiet, desperate sounds from him.
His hips jerk slightly, his body fully attuned to mine, every reaction fueling the heat curling low in my stomach.
When I can't wait any longer, I position myself, kissing him softly as I push in, filling him inch by inch. Scott lets out a sharp breath, his body tensing before softening around me. His arms wind around my neck, pulling me down until our bodies are flush, our foreheads pressed together.
I move slowly at first, savoring every inch of him, the way he fits so perfectly against me.
His breath is hot against my neck, his fingers digging into my back, his quiet moans sending heat straight to my core.
My hand never leaves him, stroking him in time with my thrusts, drawing him closer, pushing him higher.
Then, I pick up the pace, rolling my hips in deeper strokes, and his nails scrape over my skin as he comes undone, gasping my name.
I kiss him through it, whispering against his lips, telling him how perfect he is, how much I love him, how I'll never let him go.
I follow right after, pressing my forehead to his as we both tremble through the aftershocks.
For a long time, neither of us moves. We lay there, tangled together, our breaths evening out, warmth still lingering between us.
Scott exhales softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. "So, you still wanna marry me?"
I huff out a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Pretty sure I answered that already."
He smiles against my temple. "Just checking."
I pull back just enough to look at him, my thumb brushing over his cheek. "We're gonna be okay, babe."
His expression softens, his hand settling over mine. "Yeah," he whispers. "We are."
I kiss him again, slower this time, softer. He's lost so much tonight. But I'll make damn sure he never loses me.