Jess looks over at me, annoyed. “Thanks for the sage advice.”
“Would you take my advice if I offered it to you?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“Probably not.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“But if I were to…” he hedges, “what would you say?”
“I guess I’d tell you to take a day or a week to be pissed off, but after that? Don’t waste so much time worrying about the people who’ve wronged you that you don’t see the ones who’ve been there all along. You have Lo to take care of you, but who’s been taking care of her?”
I hear a car door slam outside about two-point-five seconds before my front door flies open. Lo hesitates in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Jesse, drunk and wet, streaks of blood decorating the floor from the back door to his feet from the broken bottle.
Jesse stands, lumbering over to where she stands before throwing his arms around her. His shoulders start to shake, and Lo’s face crumples as she hugs him, soothing him with soft words of comfort. I hear Jess mumble about being sorry, and she shushes him. He pulls away and wipes at his eyes with his forearm.
“I, uh…” Jesse starts, clearing his throat. “I think I just need to go to bed.”
“Get some sleep.” Lo nods. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Jesse ambles up the stairs, and I make my way over to Lo. I cup her face with my right hand, and she holds on to my wrist, leaning into my touch. She looks tired, but beautiful.
“He came to you,” she whispers. She grabs the back of my head, lifting onto her tiptoes, and presses her lips to mine. I anchor her to me with an arm around her waist as I slip my tongue through her lips. This kiss is different somehow. Like we’re finally shedding all the bullshit and allowing ourselves to just be. Lo pulls back and whispers a thank you against my mouth.
“He trusts you. He came here. That means something.”
I don’t deserve the way she’s looking at me right now—like I’m Mother Teresa instead of a monster.
“You okay, Sally?” She gives a small, sad smile at my use of my nickname for her, but a smile nonetheless. “He’s not the only one who found out his father isn’t really his father.”
“I’m too tired to be upset. I’ll figure out how I feel in the morning.” Lo circles her arms around my neck, chin resting on my chest. She never ceases to impress me with the way she adapts to life’s curveballs. “Take me to bed,” she says before sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.
Wordlessly, I carry her up the stairs, her warm body wrapped around me. I don’t stop until we’re at the foot of my bed. Setting her to her feet, I peel her jacket off, followed by her shirt and bra, revealing her pale pink nipples. I press a kiss to one before I pull down her pants, and she holds on to my shoulders as she lifts one foot, then the other.
Lo lies down on my bed, flat on her back, the tip of her thumb between her teeth as she watches me reach behind my neck to pull my shirt over my head. I stare at her, thinking how fucking perfect she looks in my bed. Her porcelain skin against my black sheets, my ink on her thigh, signature messy ponytail spread across my pillow, face stripped of makeup. This is when she’s the most beautiful.
I kick off my pants, dropping my knee to the mattress and crawl up Lo’s body, settling in between her legs. I lift her left thigh and slowly push into her warmth. She gasps at the feeling, her back arching off the bed. Fuck, I love this girl.
Love.
The words are on repeat in my head, over and over, as I try to bury myself so deep inside her that she’ll feel me forever.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” I admit. “But I did. I love you,” I say, feeling her clench around me, her legs starting to shake. Her telltale sign that she’s close to the edge already.
“Stefan,” she breathes, and another piece of ice falls away from my heart upon hearing her say my name.
“Say it again,” I all but beg, rutting into her. Black fingernails dig into my chest. I welcome the sting.
“Stefan,” she repeats. I roll onto my side, pulling her with me. Lo’s leg goes over my hip, and I grip her perfect ass as I slowly tunnel in and out of the warmest, wettest heaven.
“Again,” I command, wrapping one arm around the small of her back and cradling her head with the other one.
“I love you, Stefan. I love you, I love you…” She trails off, clenching and contracting around me as she comes. Another piece of ice melts away, and I’m no longer frozen, but liquid inside as I spill inside her.
I roll onto my back and pull her on top of me. Her legs bend, thighs cradling me, torso flat against mine as I lazily thrust into her while we both come down. She tucks her head into the space between my neck and shoulders, kissing and sucking on my collarbone softly. I slide my palms all over her body—her arms, her back, her thighs—before finally coming to rest on her ass.
Lo’s breathing starts to even out, her warm breath rhythmically ghosting across my neck. She falls asleep while I’m still inside her, and in this moment, I decide that even though I don’t deserve her, I’m too fucking self-serving not to take the only thing that offers me peace. The only thing that allows me to feel warmth when I’ve been cold all my life. Add it to my list of sins, right next to murderer.
* * *