Home > Savage Love : A Stand-Alone Romance(6)

Savage Love : A Stand-Alone Romance(6)
Author: Cassia Leo

I open the fridge to grab one of my dad’s Stella Artois lagers. “You want a beer?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re not driving back, remember?”

“I don’t really drink.”

“Okay, let me get this straight.” I take a long pull off the cold beer from the bottle before I continue. “You’re hot and rich and sober? I guess I picked the right bar to have a meltdown.”

He grins as he looks around the kitchen at my mom’s collection of French-inspired decor. His gaze lands on the large black-and-white framed photo of the Eiffel Tower, which hangs on the wall next to the door that leads into the attached garage.

“You weren’t lying about the Francophile thing.”

“Yeah, sometimes it’s kind of cool. Like, when she tests out a bunch of French recipes. But it’s a little weird sometimes, especially considering both my parents were born and raised in Washington, like their parents and their grandparents. There are zero French people in our family.”

He stares at my face for a while as if he’s examining my facial features. The way his gaze lands on my mouth multiple times kicks up my pulse.

“My mom is white as fuck. Could be French. I don’t know. Most of her family lives in Florida,” he says as his gaze flits down to my legs for a split-second. “My dad was pretty mixed up; white, black, Cuban, and some other stuff, but I don’t know if there’s any French in there.”

I flash him what I think is a sexy smile, but it’s probably a sloppy grin. “I can help you find out. But I’ll need to see the size of your baguette.”

He laughs way harder than I expect him to, and I’m reminded how much I love the sound of his laugh.

“Tempting as your offer may be, I don’t fuck drunk girls,” he says as he regains his composure. “But I’ll take several rain checks.”

“Several?”

He allows his gaze to slide down the length of my body as the corner of his mouth turns up in a devious grin. “Something tells me once wouldn’t be enough.”

I sigh with relief as his words make it clear I’m not alone in this flirtation.

“Boy, do I have good news for you, because I’m officially not drunk anymore.”

I reach out to place the bottle of beer next to the espresso machine, to prove to him I’m a good, sober little girl. But I miss the butcher block countertop, and the bottle clatters into the porcelain farmhouse sink, bouncing and clanging around until it comes to a rest. The spilled beer foams up, and the fizzing sound fills the kitchen.

He shakes his head at my disastrous attempt to prove my sobriety. “Show me where your bedroom is, so I can tuck you in.”

I roll my eyes. “I know you think I’m drunk, but I’m not.”

I lead him back to the foyer, so we can climb the stairs to my bedroom.

“I’ll remind you that not only do I work with drunk people every day, but I’m also the only sober person here, so I’ll be the judge of that.”

I trudge silently up the stairs, keeping my eyes focused on the steps so I don’t glimpse the pictures of Elle on the wall. I stare at the carpet as I walk down the corridor toward my room. Pushing the bedroom door open, I wait for Max to enter before I shut it behind him.

I’m safe.

A couple months ago, I took the pictures of Elle and me down from where I’d tucked them into the frame of my full-length mirror. They’re hidden away in the back of the top drawer of my desk. I needed my bedroom to be a place I could escape the reminders of my sister’s impending death.

“Can you at least wait until I fall asleep before you leave? I—” I pause as the mere thought of sleep makes me yawn. “I’ve been awake for…” I attempt to do the math on my fingers, but quickly give up. “Well, a long time.”

“I think I can manage that,” he says, taking a seat on my rolling desk chair.

I clumsily peel off my coral hoodie, revealing the yellow T-shirt I have on underneath. Then I unbutton my jean shorts and smile as he doesn’t look away.

“You sure you don’t want to make sweet love to me?”

I shake my ass until my shorts drop to the floor and my turquoise panties are exposed.

His mouth curves into a sexy grin as he adjusts the crotch of his jeans. “I fucking wish. Get in bed, girl, or I’m gonna have to leave.”

Stepping out of my shorts, I pick them up to retrieve my phone out of the pocket. I power it on and shoot off a quick text to my mom to let her know I came home instead of going to Dahlia’s. She responds immediately, thanking me for checking in and letting me know some neighbors may drop by to express their condolences or bring me food. She adds that she and my dad won’t be back until the following Wednesday.

The word “condolences” makes my chest ache. I ignore the notification badges on my social media and messaging apps and power down the phone again. Then I climb into bed and pull the covers up to my chin.

“Feel free to grab something to eat or drink before you leave,” I say through the hard mass in my throat. “My parents won’t be back for, like, a week, and—”

I pull the covers over my head, pressing the sheet into my eyes as it finally hits me. Elle is never coming home again.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters.

The floor trembles as he walks across the room.

I turn away from him and remove the blanket from over my head. The mattress tilts as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Her room will always be empty.”

Even as I say the words aloud, I can’t grasp how they can be true. The movement of the mattress makes me wonder if he’s lying down now. When his hand lands on my shoulder, this simple touch gives me full permission to break down.

My chest heaves with gut-wrenching sobs as he rubs my arm to comfort me.

“Don’t hold back,” he encourages me. “Let it all out.”

Taking his advice, I pull the pillow from under my head. I hold it against my face as I release a guttural moan of frustration and grief.

I slide the pillow down and hug it against my chest. “I’m so fucking angry. I just want this day to end. I don’t give a fuck about my birthday.”

He leans forward and whispers in my ear, “What you did today took strength.”

His words make my tears fall faster.

“You were with your sister when she needed you most.”

I hug the pillow tighter. “I don’t feel very strong right now.”

“It’s been a long day. You just need to rest.”

I draw in a stuttered breath and exhale slowly. “I’m so tired.”

“You need to sleep.”

I wipe my runny nose on my sheet without an ounce of shame, and my breath catches in my throat as he places a soft kiss on the back of my ear.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” I croak.

He nods, and the movement causes his lips to graze my earlobe. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

I inhale a slow breath and close my eyes. Every muscle in my body relaxes as this beautiful stranger takes me in his arms and holds me until I fall asleep.

 

 

I wake with an intense thirst, but it pales compared to my pounding headache. Blinking my eyes, I realize the room is darker than it was earlier. The waning sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains sends shadows dancing across the ceiling.

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