Page 78 of Afterglow

Craig’s eyes grow wider, stumbling back and bumping into his secretary. At his retreat, Bryce reaches for me and pulls me back into his side, holding me close. The word boyfriend reverberates in my head. Is that what he is? Or is he only saying that for Craig’s benefit? Is that what he wants to be? My mind reels, I can’t process this on top of everything else right now.

Craig’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, then he finally swallows.

He looks at me like he’s never seen me before. The truth is, he hasn’t. The woman he walked away from was broken and drowning in the inadequacy he dumped on her. I’m not that woman today, and I never want to be that woman again. “Well, um, we better be going,” he says, resolutely avoiding Bryce’s glare and reaching for his secretary’s hand. He mumbles, “Maybe I’ll see—”

But I quickly cut him off. “No. You won’t. Goodbye, Craig.” If I never see him again, it will be too soon.

He doesn’t respond beyond a huffed exhale before escaping down the street.

“That. Fucking. Guy.” Bryce follows Craig with his eyes until he disappears around the corner. When he’s gone, his attention turns to me. His big hand cups my face and swipes away the single angry tear I allowed free. “You okay?”

I close my eyes and inhale, his scent surrounding me as he presses his forehead to mine.

“I think so. That was… I didn’t expect to see him. I haven’t talked to him since that night down by the tents. I blocked his number after the wedding.”

“He had no right to say what he did to you,” he growls. “He’s lucky I didn’t knock his perfect teeth in.”

I want to laugh, but the best I can muster is a watery chuckle. My body is too keyed up from the confrontation. “I think he was genuinely afraid you might. He would’ve deserved it.”

We stand for a moment, our foreheads together, eyes closed, and just breathe.

“God, I’m so sorry, Leanne,” he says, pulling back a few inches.

“For what?” I ask, my breath tickling his lips when I close the distance again. I can’t imagine anything he has to apologize for.

“For what he said, and for acting like a possessive asshole.” He shakes his head and I feel the movement against my own.

“Don’t apologize for him. And it turns out, I kind of like you as a possessive asshole.” I tilt my head to graze my lips against his.

He quirks an eyebrow and one side of his mouth lifts up in a smirk. “Really now? Tell me more…”

I push on his chest, loving the feel of the hard muscle under my palm a little too much. He’s so solidly here, in this moment—but also in every moment we’ve shared. And that means something, it has to.

He grabs my hand and holds it over his heart. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Am I okay? I want to be. I don’t want to let anything Craig said, or anything about him, affect me, but I still feel a little raw and drained after the interaction.

“Yeah… I don’t feel like staying here for lunch though. Can we go… boyfriend?” I shimmy my eyebrows at him and make it sound like a joke, but deep down I know it’s not.

“Yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll make you something to eat at your house while you pack.”

We walk back in the direction we came, but something feels different now, and I think maybe this weekend will be more than a trial run for me living with him. I think it might be a trial run for something much more important.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Bryce

Itried to insist on driving Leanne to the ranch with me, but she wanted her car—just in case.

I didn’t ask what that meant; in case she gets sick of me and needs to run away? In case something happens with her family and she needs to leave? In case whatever she’s feeling after our unexpected confrontation with Craig gives her pause about this whole thing…?

She didn’t say much while she packed and ate a quick lunch. She never brought up what I said to Craig about our relationship status, beyond her quipped “boyfriend” before we left. As far as I’m concerned, it’s true. Although, boyfriend feels entirely inadequate for what I want to be to her, but am I even that in her mind? I don’t know, and as much as I hoped this weekend might help us figure it out, in light of this afternoon, I don’t know if pushing is a good idea.

I follow her back to the ranch, hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. Today of all days, the anxiety over something happening to her is acute, and I do what I can to brush it off. She’s fine. She drives all the time. Nothing is going to happen.

But it could. And I’d be unable to do anything to stop it. I could lose Leanne, lose my little butterfly… just like I lost Sarah and Sam. In the blink of an eye.

I shake my head, angry at myself for letting those thoughts manifest. But it’s hard to keep them at bay when Leanne is exactly how far along Sarah was with Sam when the accident happened. I try to keep them separate in my mind, but when these parallels crop up, I struggle not to let the fear win.