Shattered Ink

Addison

I lift the wooden spoon to my mouth and taste. Holy crap, that’s some kickass gravy. I stare into the pot. It looks good. Brown and bubbling and sending off hella good scents. I’m kind of proud of myself. Coq au Vin had sounded super difficult and majorly time consuming, and yeah, it was both those things, but I did it.

I’m just taking another quick taste, when I hear the front door open. My pulse jacks up in my throat, but I’m glad he’s home. And I’m appreciative of the hour he’s given me to cool down.

“You’re making dinner, Ads?”

I turn to look at him. “I told you I was going to.”

He’s leaning against the counter about five feet away. “I know, but I thought…” His body language is wary, but his eyes are throwing off hardcore forgive-me darts. God, I’m so in love with him.

“Did you think I’d be on my way to the airport, Rush?”

He nods, and I hate the flash of fear in his eyes.

“Oh, Jesus.” I put the spoon down and lean against the counter, too. “I’m not running from this. I fucking love you. It took us five years to get here.”

His eyes close and he exhales. “Oh, Ads.”

When he opens them again, I continue, “But you can’t lie to me. No matter what. No matter how you think I’m going to react.” My words catch up with me and sucker punch me in the chest. I laugh softly. At myself. My silly, fearful, happy self. “Amazing.”

“What?”

“I learned something from this. From that asshole ex of yours. Seriously, she might be from the south or whatever, but girl needs to learn some manners.”

Rush pushes away from the counter and saunters over to me. And when I say ‘saunters,’ I mean it. Boy may be scared of losing what we got, but nothing can steal his sexy.

“You gotta know something,” I say when he places his hands on my hips and pins me with those jade-green eyes. “And if it sends you running out the door, then fine, I get that. Of course, this is your house so maybe I’m the one who leaves, or you step out for a walk and…”

His hands tighten around my hips and he eases me closer. “Ads. Talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I take a breath, bite my lower lip. “Okay. Here goes. So, I’ve been in hell for five weeks.”

His body goes rigid. “What?”

“Except when I’m with you,” I amend quickly. “When I’m with you I’m crazy happy. Like, nuts happy. Like I can breathe and chill and focus. But when I’m back there, when I’m home, without you, life just completely sucks. Seriously, it’s orange sweatpants and sad movies, pining all night instead of studying, and being an utterly craptastic friend. I’m lost.” I shrug. “I’m addicted. To you. To us.”

“See, that’s the problem, baby,” Rush says casually, like all the shit I just said was completely and totally understandable.

“What?” I ask. I think my Coq au Vin might be burning. And I think I don’t care.

“Cali’s not your home.”

I swallow. No. Definitely don’t care about the fancy French chicken. “It’s not?”

He shakes his head. “Come on, Addison. We’re both shit without each other. Phone’s not going to do it. Text just pisses me off. And weekends are a goddamn tease.”

I nod, laugh. “I know, totally.”

He pulls back a second, his brows slamming together. He looks so hot when he’s confused. “Wait a minute. Did you actually think I’d be freaked out or turned off by hearing how sick your love for me is?”

“Yeah. I kinda did.” I shake my head. “That abandonment thing runs deep, you know? And when you find that person who just drives you crazy in the freaking best way, like they get you, and all you want to do is be with them, you get scared. You get scared ‘cause you wanna hang on tight. Crazy tight. And you wonder if you’ll suffocate them and they’ll break away and haul ass to a different state or country or…the moon.” I start laughing at myself. I’m such a nutjob.

Rush pulls me in for a kiss. It’s not the hungry, I’m-going-to-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you kind, which is pretty standard for us because we’re horny and in love. It’s gentle and vulnerable, and it makes tears prick in my eyes.

When he pulls away, there’s something near my cheek. I can’t see it because it’s out of my eyeline, but I think it’s metal. Then he brings it around and holds it between us.

“Move in and suffocate the shit out of me, Ads. And before you say anything, that’s not a question.” He takes the key and heads for the top of my tank. I gasp when he places the cool metal between my breasts. His eyes lift to hold mine. “I was going for your heart, but I’m not that skilled in the romantic notions department.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and get as close as possible. “Oh, I think you’re pretty good.”

“And I think you’re pretty.”

I giggle like a girl. “Maybe we should turn off the stove?”

“Definitely.”

He flips the switch in one easy movement, then hauls me into his arms and kisses me again. And this time, it’s totally hungry and I-want-to-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you. And you know what? We can eat later.