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When Apostle came around and opened my door, I tried to slip out of the truck, knowing full well I should argue with him about being at his house. He didn’t let me, he slipped one of his arms underneath my legs and cradled my back with the other, picking me up with ease.
“Apostle,” I growled, finding a bit of fight again, “I can walk.”
“You can,” he agreed without putting me down, “but that doesn’t mean you need to. You’re exhausted and I’m more than capable of carrying you inside.”
I should have fussed and if I was healthy, I would have. Instead, I rested my head against his shoulder and allowed myself to soak up some of his strength.
That was months ago, and Apostle still hasn’t let me go back home. I’ve tried. I even talked Wrenley into taking me home one day, but then my giant shadow showed up and dragged me back to his place. No matter what I say, no matter the arguments I make, he shuts that shit down.
I must conjure the man in question into existence because I hear his gruff voice behind me, “How’s my girl doing?”
I would roll my eyes, but I know it’ll do me no good. No matter how many times I tell him I’m not his girl, he refuses to listen to me. Is he wearing me down? I hope not, I can’t let him in; he’ll ruin me.
He already has.
Fuck.
“I’m right here,” I give Apostle sass and look over my shoulder.
His eyes are slow to come up from where he’s ogling my ass. He does not even look a little bit chagrined to be caught. Not even a little bit.
Devin chuckles, “Our girl is doing great.” Apostle growls, but it does nothing to dim the smile on Devin’s face. I swear he has a death wish or something. “She’s almost back to one hundred percent. I’m damn proud of her.”
I might hate the man when he’s putting me through my paces, but pride fills me with his words. It’s taken months upon fucking months to get to this point. I’m looking forward to when I’m done with physical therapy. It’s felt like that will never happen for a long fucking time.
Could it be there’s a light at the end of the tunnel?
Apostle eyes me as I suck down some water. “She’s been working hard,” he directs his words to Devin, and I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes this time.
I huff, “She is right here, ya know?”
The giant man who hasn’t been willing to leave me the fuck alone flashes me a smile, with that dimple, and I force myself to look away. I shake my head and turn my attention to Devin. Living with Apostle for months while recovering has left me a little more than pent up.
That’s right—I’m horny. Okay? Don’t fucking judge me.
“Don’t think anyone could miss you, sunshine,” Devin snarks.
Apostle glares at the man and his fists clench. Not good. While it might be entertaining, I do need Devin because he’s the one who is going to be the one to sign off on my physical therapy. I need him to be alive for that, even if I’m just as guilty about imagining his death. But that’s when he’s torturing me.
Now that we’re done, he can live. Until the next session at least.
“How many more sessions do you think I need? I see my doctor in a few weeks. Do you think I can be given the green light to return to my normal life completely by then?” Do I sound hopeful as fuck? You bet your ass I do.
“I’ll assess you at our next session, Sioux, but I have a good feeling about being able to sign off on your recovery.”
Relief fills me and I barely stop myself from launching myself at Devin and peppering his face with kisses. Not only would it be inappropriate, but there’s no need to poke the bear.
Apostle wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. “Come on, firefly,” he drawls, “time to go home.”
Yeah. Home. His home. It sure as hell isn’t mine.
Even if it does feel like it is more than I want to admit.
CHAPTER 2
APOSTLE
Fuck. Sioux is adorable when she’s trying not to give into me and everything that is going to be between us. Some men would have walked away a long time ago, but there was no way I was going to be one of those men. Not when the woman who speaks to the deepest parts of me is in my sights.
