Chapter 12 #2
"Of course. You know I'm always here for you guys." She touches his arm briefly, her fingers lingering just a second too long. "We should grab coffee soon, catch up properly. It's been a while."
"Yeah, maybe," Rush says vaguely.
She smiles and walks away, her hips swaying slightly.
Rush doesn't seem to notice anything off. He just pulls me closer.
"You good?" he asks.
"Yeah, fine."
"You sure? You look annoyed."
"I'm not annoyed."
"You're definitely annoyed. Your jaw is tight."
I look up at him. "Ciara just gave me the 'I know him better than you' speech wrapped in friendly concern."
His brow furrows. "What?"
"She was being passive-aggressive, telling me how complicated you are and how you don't do serious and offering to be there if I need someone who 'gets it.' "
"She was probably just trying to be helpful."
"She was being territorial."
"Ciara's not like that. She's a friend. We've been friends since I moved here. She's always been solid."
I don't push it because I can see he genuinely doesn't see it.
And that's fine. I'm not going to compete for his attention or play games.
If Ciara wants to make subtle digs, let her.
I'm not insecure enough to care.
"Okay," I say.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. You're probably right, she was just being helpful."
He studies me. "You don't believe that."
"Nope, but I'm not going to argue about it either."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not competing for you, Rush. Either you want to be with me or you don't, but I'm not playing games to keep you."
His expression softens. "I want to be with you."
"Good, then Ciara's not a problem."
"She's not."
"Then we're good."
He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. "We're good."
Tank walks over and grins when he sees us. "Well look at this. Rush finally pulled his head out of his ass."
"Fuck off," Rush says without heat.
"Nah, I'm happy for you, brother. About time you stopped circling and just went for it."
"Thanks, Tank."
"Everly, you good with all this? Because if he fucks it up, we'll beat his ass for you."
I smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Good." He claps Rush on the shoulder. "Don't fuck this up."
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Good, because she's way too good for you."
"I know."
Later that night, we're back at my flat and Rush is on the couch with me curled against his side.
We're not doing anything, just being close. His hand is in my hair and I'm tracing patterns on his chest through his shirt.
The TV is on but neither of us are watching it.
"You're quiet," he says.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"Today, Ciara, my dad—all of it."
"What about them?"
"Just that this isn't going to be simple."
"I know."
"My dad's going to make it difficult. He's going to test you, probably try to scare you off."
"I know that too."
"And Ciara's not going to fade quietly."
He's quiet for a second. "You really think she's into me?"
"Yeah, I do. I think she's been into you for a while and she's not happy that you're with someone."
"She's never said anything."
"She doesn't have to say it. It's in the way she looks at you, the way she positions herself near you, the way she talks to me when you're not around."
"I don't see it."
"I know. That's what makes her good at it. She's subtle enough that you don't notice but obvious enough that I do."
He pulls me closer. "Even if you're right, it doesn't matter. I'm with you."
"I know."
"Then why does it bother you?"
"It doesn't bother me. I'm just aware of it. There's a difference. I'm not worried she's going to steal you or whatever. I just don't like being talked to like I'm temporary."
"You're not temporary."
"I know that, but she doesn't."
He kisses my forehead. "You want me to talk to her?"
"No, that'll make it worse. Just...be aware, okay? When she's making comments or touching you or whatever."
"Okay."
We're quiet for a while, then I say, "Are you scared?"
"Of what?"
"This, us, my dad—all of it."
"Terrified."
The honesty surprises me. "Really?"
"Yeah. I'm terrified I'm going to fuck this up, that your dad's going to hate me, that I'm going to prove everyone right about me being too broken for this."
I tilt my head to look at him. "You're not too broken."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. You're just scared."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No. Being scared means you care enough to worry. Being broken means you don't care at all. You're not broken, Rush, you're just human."
His hand tightens in my hair. "When did you get so smart?"
"I've always been smart. You just didn't notice because you were too busy brooding."
He almost smiles. "Fair enough."
I shift so we're facing each other, his forehead against mine.
"I meant what I said last night," he says quietly. "I'm done running. I'm done hiding. I'm choosing you."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you keep waiting for me to fuck it up."
"Can you blame me? You've got a track record of overthinking and pulling away."
"Fair, but I'm trying to be different."
"I know you are, and I'm trying to believe it. But, Rush, you have to understand, this is scary for me too. I'm choosing someone who's spent weeks pushing me away, who's convinced he's going to hurt me, whose dad is going to lose his mind. That's a lot."
"I know."
"So I need you to be patient with me while I figure out if I can trust this."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. I'll be patient."
We stay like that for a long time, just breathing together, being close.
This is what I needed. Not sex, just connection.
The reassurance that last night wasn't a fluke, that he's really here, that he's really choosing me.
"I'm glad you stayed," I say quietly.
"I'm glad you let me."
"I'm glad you didn't panic and run at dawn."
"I thought about it."
I pull back to look at him. "Really?"
"For about two seconds, yeah. Old habits."
"What stopped you?"
"You. The way you looked when you were sleeping. The fact that I didn't want to be that guy anymore."
"What guy?"
"The guy who runs when things get real."
I reach up and touch his face. "You're not that guy."
"I'm trying not to be."
"That's all I'm asking."
Later, when Rush is asleep beside me, I lie there thinking about everything.
This isn't going to be simple. I know that.
My dad is going to push back hard. He's going to test Rush, probably try to scare him off.
Ciara is going to keep making her subtle moves, positioning herself as the one who knows him better.
The club is going to have opinions, some good, some not.
But I'm not naive. I walked into this with my eyes open.
Loving Rush means dealing with complications, means navigating his past and his fears, means standing my ground when people push back.
And I'm ready for that.
I'm not going to fight for him. I'm not going to compete with Ciara. I'm not going to play games.
But I am going to stay. I am going to choose him back. I am going to trust that he means what he says until he proves otherwise.
And if he runs, if he proves me wrong, then I'll deal with it.
But right now, with his arm around me and his breathing steady against my neck, I choose to believe him.
I choose to trust that last night meant something.
That this morning wasn't just afterglow.
That when he says he's staying, he means it.
And that's enough.
For now, that's enough.