Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
I stared at the object nestled in the box, the shape unmistakable. A violin mute. I traced the delicate carvings with my fingers, and my mind skipped a beat.
It was just like Lily's and a large upgrade from my cheap one. I stared at Rob, my brain scrambling to make sense of it. How had he found something like this?
I turned it over, admiring the craftsmanship. "How—?” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Rob had asked me about my mute in the concert hall. It felt like an eon ago.
He shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have my sources."
"Your sources?" I raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe you just stumbled upon a hand-carved violin mute that looks exactly like my friend's?"
Rob leaned back, crossing his arms. "Maybe I have a secret talent for woodworking."
I narrowed my eyes. "Rob."
He sighed. "Fine." He ran a hand through his hair. "I may have done some digging."
"Dug up a woodworker who whittles these things out of their basement?"
"Not exactly."
I folded my arms. "Spit it out, Thompson."
Rob took a breath. "I found your friend. After the concert."
I blinked. "What?"
"I waited. Talked to her and asked where she'd gotten the mute that you were obsessed with."
“Obsessed?” A grin spread across my face.
The corner of Rob’s mouth lifted. “Turns out her dad makes them. So I commissioned one."
My heart swelled. I looked down at the mute, turning it over in my hands. Delicate flowers trailed the side, vines winding through the prongs. "Rob, this is . . . how much did it cost?" My eyes started to sting.
Rob shifted on his feet. “It was nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing. I thought back to the gifts Logan had given me. A bracelet. A box. Also made of wood.
The gift in front of me couldn’t have been more different. It wasn’t the gifts themselves that were the problem, it was what they represented. Logan’s were both beautiful, but they weren’t for me. They were for him. To look good. Like a check mark on his list of how to be a proper boyfriend.
But this gift from Rob? He’d been paying attention. He’d remembered something I’d mentioned in passing. Then he’d gone out of his way to find Lily and figure out where she got hers so he could use his hard-earned money to buy one for me.
I looked up at Rob, tears filling my eyes. “I got you something, too.” His mouth quirked, and I groaned. “Don’t get excited. It’s so dumb.”
Rob laughed. “How could it be dumb?”
I placed the mute back in its box and closed the lid, then flopped back on Rob’s bed. “It’s so dumb. And then you go and give me something like this?—”
Rob grabbed my hands and pulled me up to stand in front of him. “I can’t believe you got me something.”
“It’s a toilet bowl cleaner,” I blurted. “With Chrétien’s face on it.”
Rob laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Uh, that’s amazing."
I dropped my head to his shoulder. "Well, I wanted to get you something better but it felt like it had to be something I could give to a friend."
Rob dragged his hands over my ribs. "And why were you working so hard to make it look like something a friend would buy?"
My stomach swooped. "Because I had to."
His voice was barely a whisper. "Why?"
I drew a breath. Because I didn't want to admit I had feelings for you. How hard was it to just admit the truth? “Because I had a boyfriend. And I was feeling things for someone else.”
He let out a soft “Hmm” and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck. “So a toilet bowl cleaner was defensible?”
I closed my eyes, moulding to his touch. “Exactly.” Rob threaded his fingers through my hair. I breathed, every thought in my head evaporating as my nerve endings vibrated like plucked strings. “Rob,” I whispered.
“Mmhmm.”
“Will you kiss me?” I forced my eyelids to lift, and my heart stuttered when I realized how close he was.
Rob’s eyes dropped to my mouth. “You said you needed time.”
“I do.” I swiped my tongue over my lips, and Rob’s fingers twitched. “But right now, I also need you to kiss me, or I might?—”
Rob’s lips closed over mine, pulling the breath from my lungs. He kissed like he played hockey. All in. Full throttle.
His fingers tightened in my hair, gently tugging my head back as he dragged his lips over my jaw, down my neck. It was like he’d been studying game tape and knew exactly where my weaknesses were.
He blew through the neutral zone and hit every single one. The hollow between my neck and shoulder. Check. Right below my jaw. Check. Earlobe. Holy shit, check.
By the time he made it back to my lips, I was putty in his hands. How was this so damn good? I didn’t feel like I was placating him. I didn’t feel like he was doing this for him.
Every touch, every push and pull, every flick of his tongue, it was for me. For him. For both of us. He wanted this with me. Not just for himself. Not just to look like he was doing it right.
I love you. I’m in love with you.
I flicked my tongue against his, tangling my hands in the neck of his shirt, his hair, anywhere I could grab to pull him closer, to press him tighter.
And then, his lips slowed, his hands still caging me against him. He brushed his tongue over mine, breathing through me, making me a part of him.
His forehead pressed against mine, his lips stilling, connected to mine. He dropped his hands, and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, and breaking our connection for the briefest moment as he tugged it over his head and dropped it on the floor.
And somehow I knew. He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to push my boundaries, because he wanted to ask for more.
It simply didn’t feel right to have clothes between us.
I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head, then dropped my jeans to the floor, stepping out of them as Rob did the same. I straightened, and he caught my hand, leading me to the bed.
I pulled down the sheet and comforter and slipped in, moving toward the wall so Rob could crawl in next to me. He curled around me and pulled the blankets over us, then dropped his arm over me, threading his fingers through mine.
I closed my eyes, feeling his chest rise and fall against my back.
Somewhere between the steps and this bed, all the panic I felt in Logan’s truck had seeped out of me. I was safe. I was loved.
Rob didn’t need to say a word of it.