Collins

CHAPTER 44 collins NOW

collins

NOW

I didn’t want her carrying the weight of anything, not decisions, not logistics. If there was a way to make staying here easier, lighter on her…I was all in. No hesitation. No second thought.

The moment she said she didn’t want to leave, something in me settled. There was no version of my life anymore where I let her walk away.

Not after the truth came crashing down. Not after everything shifted.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

And I didn’t want it to be.

They’d have to put me in the ground before I spent another day in this lifetime without her.

I called Johnnie’s dad, Mike. Funny how, after all these years, I’d never bothered to learn either of her parents’ names.

They’d never made my list of favorite people, not even close.

But hearing what happened while she was back in Texas, the way they showed up for her when it mattered most, it changed something in me.

Not everything. They still rubbed me wrong in ways I couldn’t quite explain. But there was a softness there now. A reluctant respect.

At the end of the day, they loved their daughter.

And they did right by her.

That counted for more than anything to me.

Between the two of us, Mike and I arranged for a moving company to pack up everything she had left behind. When I asked her what she wanted most, she didn’t even hesitate.

“My clothes…and my dolphin figurines.”

Of course.

Even now, with everything she’s been through, she still held onto the small, bright pieces of herself. And that did something to me.

My brothers stepped in without being asked, handling calls, coordinating schedules, making sure everything moved forward while I…stayed. While I took the time I didn’t even realize I needed.

I showed up when I could. Helped where it mattered. But mostly, the past couple weeks have been spent learning her all over again and soaking in every moment with the woman I lost ten years ago.

And piece by piece, something inside me has been stitching itself back together.

What was once torn clean through, now healing.

Her too.

You can see it in the way she moves now. The way she smiles is a little easier. The way her eyes don’t look quite as haunted when they meet mine. She’d already started that healing before she came back, but now?

Now it’s real.

Now it’s steady.

Together, we moved the last of Nan’s things. Boxes filled with memories, carefully packed and carried into my house. The rest we sold off quickly, leaving behind only what mattered.

And now…the trailer stands empty.

Bare walls. Quiet air.

But it doesn’t feel hollow.

It feels full.

Willie Nelson forever lingering within these walls.

Always full of her laughter and stubbornness.

That spunky old woman changed everything for us, brought us together in ways I’ll forever be thankful for.

I wish she could see us now.

See that we made it through the worst of it.

That we didn’t just survive it, we came out the other side stronger. Together. Still standing. Still choosing each other.

I let out a slow breath, glancing around.

“Well,” Johnnie says softly, brushing her hands on her jeans, her cheeks flushed pink from the hours of cleaning and hauling boxes. “I think that’s it. The realtor says we’ve got until this evening.”

She turns to me, something tender and uncertain flickering in her expression.

“What should we do until then? I don’t want to just…leave. Feels like I should take in every last second before it’s gone.”

God, she’s beautiful.

Not just in the obvious ways, but in the way she feels things so deeply. In the way she holds onto moments like they matter.

Because they do.

My gaze drifts over her, slow and unhurried. Something warmer beginning to stir beneath the surface.

“Well,” I whisper, stepping a little closer. “I can think of a thing or two to pass the time.” I give her a subtle, suggestive lift of my brows.

She laughs, but it’s soft. A little nervous. A little breathless.

And it hits me harder than it should.

Because it’s been weeks.

Weeks of holding her. Kissing her. Falling asleep with her tucked against me like she belongs there—like she always has. But never crossing that line. Never pushing.

It just hasn’t felt quite right.

Everything was too heavy. Too fragile. Like one wrong move might crack something we were still trying to piece back together.

But now?

Now the air between us feels different.

Charged.

Like something’s been building quietly, steadily…waiting.

I reach for her, fingers brushing her wrist before sliding into her hand and intertwining with hers.

The restraint that’s held us back for so long…

It’s starting to slip.

“What do you say we make one last memory here? A good one. Erase anything less than,” I say, brushing lips against her cheek and nudging her nose in the way that always makes her smile. I love making her smile.

Pink cheeks turn to red as she buries her head into my shoulder.

“I think that sounds like a great idea.”

And that’s all the reassurance I need before scooping her up, her legs wrapping instantly around my waist as I stride down the hallway, not even managing to make it into a bedroom before lowering her to the floor.

“Do me a favor?” She splays her hair out on the floor around her and bites her bottom lip, looking up at me with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Anything,” I rasp, rubbing my hands up and down her thighs clenched at my waist.

“Don’t be gentle with me. I’m not broken anymore, I can’t break.”

Holy shit. My pulse hammers in my ears.

“Johnnie. Fuck, you can’t say things like that.”

She smiles bigger than I’ve seen in so long as she raises up just enough to grasp the hem of her shirt, whipping it up and over her head.

There she lies with a pink lace bra and jeans.

Jeans I can’t wait another second to get off her.

Bending down and unbuttoning them, I move the zipper down so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t break.

She doesn’t give me the chance to make another move before she’s hooking her thumbs in the waist and yanking them down, then kicking them the rest of the way off.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. My beautiful girl.”

“I like it when you call me that.”

“Good, because I’m never going to stop. You’re a woman now, but you’ll always be my beautiful girl.”

She reaches up, grasping my shirt and urging me to take it off, I happily toss it to the side and her eyes go to my chest, lust fills those deep blue irises, and I can’t wait another second before I’m palming hers.

She arches up into my touch, closing her eyes, and letting out the softest moan that shoots straight to my core, making me painfully hard.

I stand up and lower my pants to the floor, kicking them off somewhere across the room.

I stare down at her, and her eyes go right to the front of my boxers.

She sits up slowly and brings a hand up, rubbing over the silky material, and I completely unravel at her touch.

Wrapping my hands around her head and threading fingers through her hair, I squat down and bring my mouth to hers.

She nips at my bottom lip just before I thrust my tongue, hers meeting mine with equal fervor.

We fall back to the floor on gasps and moans.

Something in me snaps and her words echo in my head, bouncing around relentlessly. Don’t be gentle.

Climbing up her body, I stop with my hips at her head. She pulls me free from my boxers, pumping me with urgency. I grab her hands, stopping her, pinning them above her head as I make quick work of thrusting toward her open, waiting mouth.

She doesn’t flinch, completely sure of herself she swallows me down. The sight of it alone spurs me on. God, it’s so damn sexy.

A tear slips down her cheek as she gags slightly, and it snaps me back to myself.

I pull away, retreating, lowering back down until we’re face to face again. My thumb brushes over her bottom lip, and she parts for me, mimicking what she’d just done moments before.

“Holy hell, Johnnie,” I murmur, voice rough. “You’re going to make me come undone too soon…like a damn teenager.”

I ease my thumb from her mouth and cup her chin, kissing her like my life depends on it. She moans against my lips, the vibration tearing through what little control I have left.

My hand drifts down, sliding her underwear aside just enough to slip my fingers between her thighs, finding her warmth. Taking my knees, I nudge hers apart, guiding her open for me.

I don’t even bother fully removing my boxers, just shove them down far enough. Then I’m pressing forward, driving into her.

Clothes be damned.

I need her. Now.

The moment we connect, she gasps, hands gripping my shoulders as she pulls me down into her. I move fast, relentlessly, each thrust threatening to undo me completely. Somehow, I manage to drag myself back, pulling out slowly.

The loss of contact, unsettling.

I push up just long enough to tear my boxers the rest of the way off before dropping back down, pulling Johnnie with me so she’s straddling my hips.

My hands find her underwear, gripping and tearing until they give way, fabric falling uselessly from her body.

“You’re pretty good at destroying my underwear.” She laughs softly, reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra.

The second she slips free of the lace, my head lifts, mouth closing around her nipple. She presses her hands to my shoulders, guiding me back as she shifts above me.

She pauses there for a moment. Knees braced on either side of my hips, fingers threading through her hair before sliding down her body. Then she’s cupping herself and finally lowering back down onto me.

My hands come to her hips as she begins to move, rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She draws in a sharp breath through her teeth, her gaze dropping to where we’re joined.

“See that, baby?” I say. “See how well we fit together? You were made for me.”

And she was.

“Mmm, Collins.” Her voice is drenched in desire.

Her eyes lift to mine, hands braced against my abs as she bites down on that bottom lip again, rolling her hips with growing intensity. She’s found her rhythm now—grinding, relentless.

“Oh my god, Collins…I’m going to—”

“That’s it, babe,” I rasp, reaching up, hands tightening on her. “Take what you need.”

Her eyes squeeze shut, head falling back as she moves faster, harder, and completely lost in it. She lets out a deep, throaty, shuddering breath, and I watch her unravel above me, beautifully undone. The sight of it steals what little control I have left.

It’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. Whatever restraint I’d been clinging to snaps.

My hands tighten on her hips as I drive up into her, movement turning urgent, unrelenting. I can’t stop, don’t want to. Not when she looks like this, feels like this. My gaze drags over her, taking in every detail, every motion, the way her body moves with mine.

And then I’m gone too, release hitting hard and more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt, like everything I’ve held back finally breaking free all at once.

“Collins,” she breathes, lowering herself limply onto my chest.

My heart is hammering wildly in my chest while I manage to find the strength to run my hands down her back and up, over and over as our breaths begin to even out.

JOHNNIE

We lie there for a while, his hands moving slowly up and down my back. Pure bliss settles over me, warm and reassuring. He presses a kiss to my forehead before getting dressed, telling me to take my time. He knows me so well, senses the quiet shift in me, the need for a moment alone.

Time to say goodbye.

I take one last walk around the place. Anything bad that happened here no longer haunts me.

Coming back to the very place I had been avoiding was, little did I know, the final piece of the healing puzzle.

I had to revisit the source to fully put myself back together.

The realization settles, and with it comes something light, something freeing. I am whole again.

As I drift down the hallway, a sudden chill wraps around me.

I instinctively fold my arms over my torso and glance into Nan’s room.

Since my return, I’ve cleared it out. It sits empty now, stripped of everything but memories.

Still, something catches my eye in the corner, faintly lit by the last stretch of evening light.

The carpet.

It sits slightly raised, its frayed edges brushing against the trim. I step closer and crouch, reaching out to smooth it down. Maybe I caught it on a piece of furniture without realizing. My fingers slip beneath the edge, peeling it back just enough.

My breath catches.

Soft brown leather, worn and familiar, stares back at me. Recognition hits instantly, as certain as the sunrise. My old journal, tucked snugly beneath the rust-colored fibers.

My heart jolts as I pull it free. The spine cracks faintly when I open it, the sound sharp in the quiet. I flip to the last page, the one I have not seen since the night I left.

The silky ribbon lies neatly where I left it.

The words I wrote are the last thing I want to face right now, but my eyes move anyway, drawn to the spot where my pen once hovered. And then I see them. Words that steal my breath and bring a sting to my eye.

I’m so sorry, sweet pea.

Beside the words that did not come from me, a perfectly round smudge blooms, a soft ripple of distortion pressed into the page. My own tear sinks into the paper beside it before I close the journal and back out of the room. I walk down the hall and out the front door.

Back to the love of my life.