Fragile Little Things ?

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“Do you know how bad I wanted to call you? Hear your voice? Be with you? Touch—” I groan, running a frustrated hand through the scruff at the back of my neck. My hair has grown out longer than I usually allow it to, and I’ve taken to tugging at it in frustration. “Touch you.”

Indigo inhales sharply, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. If she knew how much I mulled over her fucking lips. I’d committed them to memory—full and pouty, heart-shaped, with a heavier top lip. Blush pink. Fuck.

I rip my gaze away from them before I go insane, pressing forward. “I held back because I wanted to give you space. You didn’t call or text me either, so I thought you were fine with it. I thought it was what you wanted.”

Indie shifts on her feet uncomfortably. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you, Indigo. And I think you know it, too. My voice hardens. “I just never want to see that fucking asshole again.”

And I don’t have to clarify who I’m talking about. She knows already — just nods tightly and tries to change the topic. “How was your Christmas?”

I clamp down on my jaw. “Good. I brought Ma home and the boys helped me clean up.” Her eyes are filled with concern, but I don’t want to throw myself a pity party, so I ask her, “How was yours?”

She looks away uncomfortably, like she wasn’t expecting me to turn the question on her and was regretting asking it in the first place. But then she drags her gaze up to meet mine anyway, shrugging. “I spent it alone. Mae’s with family, and so was Scarlett, and mom was working. Scarlett invited me but I didn’t want to intrude.”

She spent Christmas alone? No wonder she looks so fucking miserable. My chest slices open. I should never have stuck to my quest of giving her space. I should have barged into her fucking apartment and dragged her — willing or unwilling — to my mom’s place. To celebrate Christmas with us, instead of alone. To be with me.

But she’s here now, just a few steps away, and I glance up at her, not wanting to waste any more time.

I lift a hand, beckoning her over. “Come here.”

Slowly, she listens. She walks into my arms, and my skin hums when she presses her body into mine. Outside the garage, snow descends from the sky. A slight shiver runs through her skin, like she’s finally registered how cold it is as my body heat pours into her.

I can feel the softness of her body against mine, her sweet scent— coconut and warm sandalwood— invading my senses. I settle one arm on her lower back, burying the other in her loose curls. “You came all the way here to tell me this?”

She nods against my chest.

Which means that after I let her go, she’s going to go home. But I’m selfish, and I don’t want her to. So I decide to swap out my plans for tomorrow to today instead. I pull away even though it’s the last thing I want to do, taking her hand in mine instead. “Come on. I need to give the car I’m working on a test drive anyway.”

She furrows her brows. “Where are we going?”

I throw back a slight grin. “I’m going to get some of my tattoos retouched.”

Her eyes go wide. “What?”

I nod. “The ink from my older tattoos have started to fade, so I need to get them redone.”

I was meant to do them tomorrow, but that would mean having no excuse for her to stay with me today. She’s here with me now, though, and I intend on keeping her for as long as humanly possible.