Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)(80)

"You were doing something nice, and I couldn't handle it. That's neither of our faults. I don't think. It is what it is and it happened. So what are we gonna do about it?" I cross my arms, and he turns off his treadmill and faces me.

"I don't know. I know what I want, but I don't know what you want and those two things might not line up." I know what I want. Even though I'm still scared and mad, I want him. So much. It's taking all my strength not to jump over and tackle him onto his treadmill. That's probably not allowed.

Fuck, I missed him. Not talking to him sucked so much this week. I kept seeing or experiencing things that I wanted to tell him about and then I realized that I wasn't talking to him.

I missed the sex too. I missed having him kiss my spine and look at me like I'm the most precious and beautiful creature on the planet.

I miss . . . him. It's just hitting me now how much. It's like being punched repeatedly. Not that I've ever had that happen. But I imagine this is what it would feel like.

"Luna?" he says and the nickname breaks me. I step off the treadmill and walk into him. It takes a second, but then his arms wind around me and I let myself melt into his chest. Shit. I missed the way he smells too.

"I'm so, so sorry," he says, tucking his head on top of mine. I love the way he surrounds me.

"I know. And I'm sorry too. I'm sorry about the whole thing." Rhett pulls back just a little to look down at me.

"I missed you, Luna. So much that I had chest pains all week." Same.

"I missed you too. The only thing worse than being with you is not being with you." He smiles and I feel an answering smile break out on my own face. Maybe things are going to be okay? They might be for like these few minutes and then something might blow up in our faces, but for right this moment, things are good.

"I seriously missed you," he says, kissing my forehead, and I sigh.

"I seriously missed you too." He hugs me for a while, and I let the sounds of the gym fade around us.

"You wanna go get some pancakes? Or maybe not." Considering what happened last time we tried to do that, I'm inclined to say no.

"How about I make you some?" I say. He kisses the top of my head.

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

So Rhett ends up making the pancakes. Mostly because I let him because I miss seeing how sexy he is in my kitchen. I just pull up a chair and put my chin in my hands and watch him. He whistles and it's like nothing has happened. Sure, I know that we still have a lot to talk about, but I hope this is the start to fixing things. I hope.

"Do you want to talk about it or not talk about it?" Rhett asks when we sit down on my couch with two plates of pancakes.

"Well. I have questions." He grins and slices his pancakes into perfect slices. I attack mine with a fork, not even minding the knife. Oops. But I know he doesn't care about my table manners. It's too late now.

"I figured you did. And I think I might have some answers for you." My hand starts shaking and I drop my fork. Suddenly I can't eat, so I set my plate on the coffee table.



       
         
       
        

"Did you talk to her?" I fold my hands in my lap and stare at them.

"Just on Facebook. Just in a message." I exhale a shaky breath. I want to know what her voice sounds like. I want to know if it sounds like mine.

"So you haven't seen her?" I lace and unlace my fingers and a hand reaches out and stops me.

"No. I didn't think I had the right. I also didn't tell her your name. I just said that I knew you and we were friends and I thought she might want to know that her daughter was out there." Oh. I didn't even think of that. I probably should have? I was too busy thinking about her than thinking about her finding out about me.

"Good plan," I say as his fingers stroke mine.

"I haven't responded back to her. I can delete and block the messages. If you want. This is all up to you. It should have been from the beginning." He twists his fingers with mine so we're holding hands.

"I couldn't do it. I don't know why. But you could." I finally look up at him and I think I'm crying again because tears are dropping onto our joined hands.

"I shouldn't have. It wasn't my right." I nod.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have. But you did. And now the ball is rolling so . . . let's let it roll." His brows knit together in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Rhett

"I want to meet her," she says, her fingers gripping mine so hard that the bones are in danger of cracking. Even her fingers are strong.