The Patchwork Hearts

Chapter FIFTY FIVE

Holden

I can't sleep that night.

   I kissed Maya, the girl I've been pining for for over four years. The girl I never stopped loving. I tried to drink her away, party until I didn't have to feel it, paint until my feelings were all out there for the world to see. But my love for her was always there.

   And then she told me she wants us to be together, now. That one word - okay - was her agreeing to my proposition. I told her I want her. I want to be her man, her love, her rock. I want her to be my girl, my side kick, my fucking everything. And maybe it won't be easy but it will be ours.

   Two days take forever two pass, but I'm feeling way better by Friday. I barely feel like I got stabbed at all. I mean, I wouldn't go out for a jog or do anything strenuous activity, but generally I feel pretty good.

   I text with Maya often over those two days, but she works on Thursday evening and even though I want to see her during the day on Friday, I don't push it. She is babysitting Willow while Nella has an appointment, for the baby. We Facetime for a little bit and by Friday evening, I can't wait anymore. I pick up at Landon at 7:30P.M. and bring him back to my house, and then I call her.

   "Hey," she answers, as if she was waiting for this.

   "Hi. What are you doing?" I want to know.

  "Not much. I ate dinner with Nella and Willow and have been back home for an hour or so," she tells me.

   "So... I really want to see you," I blurt out.

   "Yeah?" It's a question, but she always just wants me to confirm.

   "Please?" I say, then take in a breath.

   "My address is 91 Lou Lane."

   I suck in a breath. In the last few weeks that we've been talking, I never asked where she was living. "You live, like, around the corner from here?"

   "Yeah." She sounds a bit embarrassed now, for not telling me.

   "I'm on my way," I say, already slipping into my shoes.

I see her walking over to my truck ten minutes later, and I'm done for. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She's just wearing leggings and a blue, long-sleeved top; her hair is down and just barely at her shoulders. My heart is wide open, soaring for her to take it, and my dick is hard. I'm only conflicted about wanting to take our time, while wanting her so bad it hurts.

   She gets in beside me and I give her the smile that I save just for her.

   "Hi," she says, keeping a straight face.

   "Hi."

   "How was... the rest of your week?" she asks me, and she's practically holding her breath.

   We just talked a little bit earlier in the day, and she called me before bed yesterday, too. She knows how my week has been. She's trying to make small talk and I don't like it.

   "Painfully slow?" I tell her, but it sounds like a question.

   "Oh yeah?"

   "Yes."

   "Why's that?" she asks, knowing she's teasing me.

   I sigh. "I want to see you every day. I want to touch you and hold your hand and kiss you. And it's hard to think about anything g else," I say. "So, yeah, the rest of my week since I saw you was really, really slow."

   "You're such a softy now," she accuses me, but bites her bottom lip.

   "I am for you," I tell her, wishing she'd bite my bottom lip like that.