Chapter 30 #2
Her cheeks glisten in the firelight and I drift closer, almost involuntarily drawn toward her and powerless to resist. She’s had me hooked like this since the first time I saw her.
“Oh, hey,” Gus says behind me. “Wasn’t I supposed to talk to you two about those, uh… the uh… plants?”
“The plants! Yes!” chirps Olena. “Almost forgot. Remember, Jude? Gus wanted to talk to us… inside… about the whole… plant thing?”
“Riiiight, the plant thing. We better…” I glance over my shoulder as Jude gestures weakly toward the house. “We better go inside to discuss the very important… plants.”
“Because of the landscaping,” Olena awkwardly clarifies.
“Oh my God, just go already,” I say, rolling my eyes at their ridiculous excuses.
They file inside, leaving me and Caroline alone beside the fire. When the sliding door to the kitchen snicks shut, it’s like neither of us knows what to do.
“Oh, fuck, I wanna say so much right now,” I say with a chuckle. “But I’ve talked my ass off already and—”
“Did you mean it?” Caroline asks in a rush, cutting me off. “The part about fighting for me?”
“God, yes.” I nod, trying to stop the trembling in my chin.
“Miles…” Relief touches her expression, but there’s still caution there.
I inhale to steady myself. “I wanna do this properly.” My voice breaks just saying the words. “You and me. For real this time.”
“But you said you weren’t ready,” she counters.
“I was scared I wasn’t. But this last month… Losing you put me through hell. And I still did it.” I fish the bronze chip from my pocket and hold it out to her. “I didn’t drink.”
When she takes it, our fingers brush, and even that small contact makes me want to haul her against me.
“Proof I can handle hard shit, right?”
She looks up and a tear slips down her cheek.
“Everything’s easier with you, Caroline. Everything.” Throat tightening, I wipe at my tears. “So, whaddaya say, fancy girl? You wanna get on this messy-ass ride with me?” Remembering the other reason for our separation, I add, “And fuck what your dad said. I’ll figure something out with work and—”
She’s kissing me before I finish my sentence and it’s like coming up for air—like I can finally breathe again. Through her. With her. Because of her. Because of us. Every rattled, ragged part of me feels like it’s sliding back into place, rough edges smoothed by having Caroline in my arms again.
We break the kiss and I bend to press my forehead to hers.
Her voice is soft when she speaks. “You don’t need to worry about your job anymore.”
I pull back. “What? You serious?”
“I told my dad off. Long overdue, but…” she trails off, lifting a shoulder.
“Holy shit. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Maybe Adrian’s right about my villain era.” She looks down at my chest. “But I finally hit my toxicity limit, I guess. He’s a real piece of work.”
“I’m sorry.” I hug her closer, resting my chin on the top of her head. “You deserve so much better.”
“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” She draws back and lifts her gaze, tears welling in her eyes again. “For how he treated you.”
“He was a dick to us both. But you’re his daughter. He shouldn’t have—” I cut myself off and shake my head. “How did it feel?”
“Felt great, actually.” There’s a hint of guilt in her expression. “Hard, but great.”
“So proud of you,” I whisper, then kiss her again.
She hums a little sound of relief when our lips part. “God, I missed kissing you.”
“Well, we’ll have to make up for all those missed ones.” I smirk, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “But seriously, you sure about this? ’Cause I’m not gonna promise smooth sailing. I can’t promise—”
“I know.” She nods.
“I mean, being sober—staying sober—is something I’m gonna have to face every day for the rest of my life.
” I should probably shut up, but I need to be sure she knows what she’s signing up for.
“And I’m not asking you to save me or fix me, okay?
I’m gonna keep working on myself. It’s my job to keep getting better. ”
“Miles, I know.” She takes my face in her chilled hands and lifts to kiss me. “And yes, I’m sure.”
Something tight in my chest seems to release its grip. “I fucking love you.”
“I fucking love you too.” Slipping her fingers over my jaw, she arches a brow. “And, honestly? You had me at messy-ass ride.”
I laugh and lift her off the ground, wrapping her legs around my hips.
“So, should I take that literally, or…?” she continues. Her grin is flirtatious, stoking that familiar heat deep inside me.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan out. “I can’t wait to get you alone.
More alone than this, anyway.” I kiss her again, reminding myself we can’t get carried away out here.
“We gotta finish that list of yours, right? And let’s just say this ass”—I palm her through her jeans, squeezing hard—“is in for one hell of a messy ride.”
Her burst of laughter masks the opening bars of the song, but we both go still when we finally hear the music coming from the porch.
“Is that…?” I screw up my face, then crane my neck to catch Gus slowly sliding his kitchen door shut, pumping his eyebrows.
“Oh, God,” Caroline says, obviously recognizing the tune.
Then I place it. The muted trumpet part at the beginning.
Sweet Caroline.
“Bro!” I call out to him, setting Caroline on her feet again. “Turn it off!”
He motions to his ears through the glass, mouthing an exaggerated, “Can’t hear you, sorry!”
Fucker.
I roll my eyes, though I don’t think anything could wipe the dopey smile from my face.
Caroline and I share a resigned look, then break into laughter when we spot Olena making a nonplussed Mr. Lumps—wearing a lopsided little Santa hat and matching jacket—wave to us through the glass.
Caroline tugs me against her, grinning.
“Thought you hated this song.”
“Oh, I do,” she says, beaming up at me. “But, for some reason, I’m just really fucking happy right now.”
I know the feeling.
She gasps, then pulls away. “I have something for you.”
“What?” My brows quirk together as she retrieves a small gift bag from beside her camping chair.
“A sobriety present,” she explains, holding it out to me. “Open it.”
I dig out the item inside, making quick work of ripping back the tissue paper from the little framed pencil sketch.
“Baby, is this—?” But I don’t even need to ask.
It’s our hands—inexplicably but unmistakably our hands.
My pinkie hooked to hers in a promise. The promise I made to us both.
To keep going, to keep fighting—and to stay sober.
Already welling up again, I lift my eyes to my beautiful girl. “How did you…?”
“Ada did it for me.” Caroline tucks herself under my arm as we gaze down at the drawing.
“Hope it’s okay.” She scrunches her nose in a sheepish apology, peering up at me.
“I had to show her the photo you sent me so she could get your hand right.” Lifting up on her toes, she presses a gentle kiss to my cheek.
As she brushes her chilled fingers along my stubble, she smirks.
“Don’t worry, though. She promised to take the knowledge of your sad-boy beard to the grave. ”