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Written in the Scars(70)

By:Adriana Locke


She’s still mad. I don’t think she would be if she knew how adorable she is when she’s mad over nothing. It’s been entertaining to watch.

Warmth surrounds me, and not just from her naked body or the blankets on our bed or the fact that she has the thermostat set on seventy-six. It’s a contentedness, a satisfied, relaxed peace that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers, her tone thick with sleep.

“Just how much I love you.”

She presses a kiss to my sternum.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, closing my eyes and feeling her touch.

Her chest rises and falls against mine before she looks up at me. “I don’t know how to put it, exactly.”

Wrapping my arms around her, feeling her silky skin beneath me, I release a heavy breath. “Things feel different between us, don’t you think?”

“In what way?”

“Like . . .” I shrug. “I don’t know. Like we made it through all this shit and now we’re on the other side. We fought the fight and now we’re here with the scars to prove it. Nothing could ever get between us now.”

“Except secrets,” she says warily. Her hand wallops my chest as I start laughing. “I’m trying, Ty. I’m trying to believe you but you’re making it really hard.”

Taking her hand, I move it to my cock. “You can say that again.”

She huffs, still irritated and wanting me to cut to the chase. She’s not about to ask—her pride won’t let her. But she’ll dance around the topic all night if I let her. I might.

“The two of us,” I sigh.

“What?”

“How do you feel about it being the two of us? I mean, with everything that’s happened?” I angle myself so I can see her eyes. “Do you want it to be the three of us someday? Or four? Or five?”

“Maybe once we work things out,” she whispers. “Once we’re in a better position financially, we can make another appointment and see.”

Swallowing hard, she tries to look away, but I don’t let her. Finances are one thing, but that’s not what’s bothering her. I capture her chin with my fingers and hold it in place.

“What if I lose another baby?” she asks, fear dripping off each word.

I suck in a breath to steady my words before I release them into the universe. “Then we do. Because whatever happens is you and me, not you alone. Got it?”

Her lips tilt in a soft grin, and I kiss her in response.

“Whatever happens in either of our lives—we do together. We’ve proven we don’t do well alone,” I laugh.

“No, we don’t,” she chuckles.

“I can handle whatever happens in my life as long as you’re by my side, Elin. And I’ll be there, holding your hand, as you go through yours. And at night, we will end up here, in bed, together, and we’ll laugh about our day and plan the next. Sound like a plan?”

Her leg lies over mine and she holds my face in her hands. The smile on her face has mine mirroring it. “When did you know you loved me?” she asks.

I think back, trying to remember the exact moment. I remember the first day I saw her at her locker and the way my heart fluttered in my chest. I recall listening to her in Spanish class, trying to sound out the words and being obsessed with the way she rolled her r’s. The way she laughed in the cafeteria, how her locker was always organized, and the way she redid her ponytail a hundred times after gym class made me love her more.

“Ty?” she asks, touching the tip of my nose, bringing me out of my memories.

“You know,” I say, smiling at her, “I don’t think there was a time I didn’t love you.”

She beams, rolling me on my back and lying on my chest. I love the way she feels against me, her weight reinforcing her presence in my life.

“It’s true,” I say, cupping her ass cheeks in my hands. “I think I loved you from the minute I saw you. I know I was obsessed with you since then, but it just morphed into love as I grew older and could understand it.”

“Do you remember the time you got in a fight with the boy at my softball game in high school?” she laughs. “I was mortified!”

I shrug, watching her relive the memory. “He was flirting with you from the sidelines. And then he had his buddy come up to me and tell me he was going to fuck you that weekend. I made sure to get the point across.”

“You did,” she says, shaking her head. “You were insane.”

“No, I was marking my territory. Besides, he shouldn’t have talked about you like that. I should’ve hit him harder.”