Chapter 23 #2
I try not to grin like a dork over the fact that she is using the blanket. Hopefully, she won’t need it anymore after the heater is fixed, but still, I know she had one night of warmth to sleep because she accepted a gift from me.
Priceless.
There is some kind of stove and a few drawers, but there isn’t much room for anything else. It’s nice and fine, but it’s not a home.
She could have called my home hers, but I ruined it.
Then, hung over the passenger seat is the green hoodie again. The one she wore when she slept over at our place and looks like Saylor’s favorite hoodie.
But it can’t be, right?
It’s just a coincidence.
He’s not the only one who got one like it.
But still…
While I was busy letting my thoughts run away with me, she had already managed to disassemble the heating, putting the parts down on the floor next to me.
I take them and put them away in one of the boxes to dispose of them properly later.
Some of the parts are black or burned, and they smell pretty bad.
Fuck, this could have been a disaster.
It’s another reason why I got a new heater and not a used one. You never know if all the parts are still good when you buy something somebody else has already used.
When she finally removes the old heater parts, I put them on the truck bed. The frustration is building in Sloan’s eyes as she inspects the damaged cables. It’s a good thing I told the mechanics to include some of them too.
“Here are some more cables and wires if you need some to fix this?” I tell her, getting the heavy box with the new heater and letting myself into the van without an invitation. It’s a struggle to climb the step, but I manage to set it down next to where she is kneeling.
I’m too tall to stand in here, so I crouch uncomfortably.
She turns as if she’s forgotten I was there or wasn’t expecting me to be in her space before she looks inside the box.
“That’s not a used heater,” she states, frowning at me.
“Well, I hope so. I got it from a shop. They don’t sell used ones,” I tease, trying to kneel beside her, but she stops me.
“I need space. Sit on the bed,” Sloan commands, pointing a finger toward the bed with her eyes still on the heater.
“I can help,” I protest, but I’m already sinking onto the bed, grateful not to ruin my back by standing.
“You can help by staying away,” she counters, shooting me a look and making me smirk. Kneeling in such a small space with my leg is impossible, and she knows it, giving me an out.
While Sloan works, she gnaws on her lip brutally, and I would love to move and pull it out from between her teeth, but I just sit and watch her.
“So, you’re telling me you went to the shop two hours from here, getting me all these parts and spending a fortune on me?”
Yes.
“It wasn’t a fortune,” I lie.
“Oh, I know exactly how much this was.” She scowls at me. “And you did that yesterday? Or when?” she asks again, not looking at me, but there is something in her tone, something more to the question.
“Yesterday, yes,” I tell her, shuddering again at the thought of that drive from hell. I stopped counting how many times my panic overwhelmed me, and I had to keep myself from turning around.
She turns to look at me, her frown getting even more prominent.
“You drove four hours in total in the pouring rain?” I don’t know if the question sounds like she doesn’t believe me because she knows what kind of torture it was, how much I had to push myself for her, or because she can’t believe I did.
But I know her enough to believe it’s the former. She paid attention to me.
I just nod, unable to get out a yes because a yes isn’t enough.
I did that for you because I would do anything for you, anything to make it right, anything to get you back.
I would walk through fire or, better yet, rain. I would go back on a boat in the ocean in a storm. I would almost drown again just to have you look at me with the same look you did before. I would lose my other leg to make things right for us.
She looks at me for a long moment, then at the floor, scrunching up her nose in the way she does when she’s thinking hard before her gaze goes back up to me, way softer this time.
“Why are you doing this, Hunter?” The question is honest, without accusation, without bitterness. She really needs to know the why.
But…
“I already told you,” I answer, meeting her inquiring gaze.
“But why?” Her tone becomes pleading, even softer, breaking at the last word. She’s so hurt, but I can see the longing. I know it.
I feel the same.
“Because you deserve to have something good. You deserve to have everything you dream of. You didn’t deserve what I did.
You’re the only one who can put a smile on my face without even trying, and I…
” I stop, holding myself back. Telling her I love her won’t help a thing right now.
It would just make her push me away again, “I really enjoy being with you.”
She nods as if she understands what I’m saying, reading between the lines.
She looks to my left on the bed, and when I turn to look there, too, I can’t see anything, but I feel something on my shoulder.
The same way I feel the phantom pain in my leg—it’s there, but it’s not.
It’s like a hand laying there to support me.
It’s a feeling I’ve had a few times before, always in the same space, the same room I visit from time to time.
And a name flies through my mind.
Saylor.
I probably imagine things, wishing them so hard my subconscious lets me feel them.
It can’t be.
But still, when my eyes go back to Sloan’s, they’re locked to my left side. When the touch on my shoulder goes away, she turns back to her task, continuing to install the new heater, her concentration evident as she meticulously connects wires and secures components in place.
The sun begins to break through the clouds, casting a warm glow inside the van through the windows and the open door.
I watch her in admiration, no longer able to contain my appreciation. “You’re amazing, you know that? You should open your own shop here. People would love that.”
She smiles, but it’s a tired smile as she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, pushing away beads of sweat.
She looks even better like that, the sheen of exertion on her skin making her glow.
Sloan takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with effort. “Are you in cahoots with Tally?”
“Not lately,” I tell her, enjoying how it makes her smile. “But I will back her up one hundred percent if it helps anything.”
“Yeah, sure, why don’t you two put in together and buy me a shop for my birthday,” she sarcastically mutters while pulling out a burned cable with force.
Huh, why the hell not?
“When is your birthday?” I ask, frustrated that I don’t even know basic details about the girl who holds my heart.
She turns and points a wrench at me. “It was a joke.”
“I got that, but I don’t know when your birthday is, and that’s sad. It could be today, and I would just sit here like a dumbass.”
“At least you brought me presents.” She shrugs, and my blood freezes.
“You’re messing with me.”
She laughs, and my heart starts to beat again. “Yes, it’s February first.”
“Wait—” I start, perplexed.
“Yes, like North,” she says, exasperated.
How would she know that? Did they talk about it?
I’ll have to ask North.
“When’s yours,” she inquires, turning away again to work as if she’s not interested in the answer.
“October twenty—” I start.
Before it even leaves my mouth completely, she looks to my left in shock and blurts out, “That’s Monday!”
“Yes, I—” I turn to my left again and frown, now a little more than sure that someone who at least knows me is here with us. “Wait, is there—” I start, but she cuts me off again.
“Almost there,” she splutters, turning to the heater again.
Okaaay.
After a few more moments filled with silence and the clinking of the wrench, she announces, “Finished,” before muttering, “Let’s hope I still have it,” and pushes the heater’s on button.
It starts up, almost silently, but there is a quiet hum, and she holds her hand out to the vents, her face scrunched in concentration. When the first warm air blows out, she jumps to her feet and makes a fist bump in the air. “I still have it!”
I chuckle when she holds out her hand to me for a high five, looking like a little dork, but I oblige. Then she holds her hand out to my left, too, leaving me dumbfounded.
I look at her with wide eyes, and she cackles like the little witch she is, lowering her hand.
She’s fucking with me, isn’t she?
She wants to see how I react when she acts… different.
If I run.
“Well, I’m happy you have warmth again,” I tell her, ignoring what just happened. “Is there anything else that needs fixing? I don’t know if I’m up-to-date on the latest hiccups of Sully-van.”
Maybe I should have asked before I went on my adventure yesterday.
She smirks at the name. “It’s perfect, thank you. Now, I only have to buy some coolant to see if it works. I ran out.”
“I’ve got coolant,” I tell her, getting up and out of the van, opening the passenger door to the truck, and retrieving the bottle. “Here.”
She grins like it’s Christmas morning when taking it from me, getting back under the hood, and emptying the whole damn bottle.
Fuck, I should have gotten more.
She closes the hood with a thud, hops in the driver’s seat, and tries to start the engine, but it just stutters three times, making me anxious.
It’s fine. If she needs more stuff to fix it, I’ll get more.
I’d buy her a whole new van if it comes to it.
Another try and Sully-Van roars back to life with a bang from the engine, making me jump and Sloan laugh, exclaiming, “She’s alive! We have a pulse!”
I grin from ear to ear. Watching her joy is infectious.
She revs the engine several more times and honks the horn, making me jump like a scared little girl once more.
Get your shit together, Hunt.
Turning off the engine, Sloan jumps out of the van, and without warning, she runs over to me and hugs me.
It’s a full-body slam hug, something Lio does all the time, but she’s bigger, and I have to grip her to make sure we don’t both fall on our asses.
I chuckle, looking down at her and stroking her head.
But then I see a tear run down her cheek, and I grip her hair at the base to pull her head softly away from my chest, scanning her face. “I thought we were happy?”
“We are,” she cries, sniffing. “Thank you,” she whispers and tries to lean her head against my chest again, against my heart.
She’s trusting me with her feelings. It’s not like before, not yet, but it’s going in the right direction.
I take what I can get.
“You’re welcome, Shortcake.” Having her let me hold her was worth everything.
After a few moments of soft crying, she steps back, pushing away the tears with the arms of her sweater. “Thank you for driving out in a rainstorm to get me this. I know what that meant and what it cost you.”
This is why she is the one for me.
No matter what I have to do, no matter who I have to share her with.
She is made for me.
“I would face every storm to get your sunshine.”