Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,80
and frantically wondering if someone was calling the cops right now and a couple of my colleagues were about to show up here and laugh their asses off.
“We don’t have a second! And I can’t find my tights!”
Five seconds later, the lights came on and Griffin came barreling into the service bay. “What the fuck, you guys?”
I stood next to Cheyenne while he grabbed the SUV’s key fob from a rack on the wall, pressed a button, and stopped the noise. Then he turned to face us, and he was not amused.
He kind of looked like Darlene after the broken plate incident.
“What. The fuck,” he repeated. But it wasn’t really a question.
“Sorry,” I said. My heart was still hammering, and the car alarm still rang in my ears.
“Sorry,” echoed Cheyenne. She wore her skirt but no tights, and covered one bare foot with the other. About ten feet away, closer to the door, I could see where her black tights had been abandoned.
“Um, I can explain,” I said.
“No, don’t.” Griffin held up his hand and started heading for the door. “Really. Just don’t.”
“I’ll lock up,” Cheyenne called, like she was trying to be helpful.
Griffin said nothing and disappeared, leaving Cheyenne and I alone again. We looked at each other.
“Oops,” I said, unable to hide a grin. “Sorry. That was a bit loud. And rough.”
“I liked it.”
“Your brother didn’t.”
“No,” she said, laughing as she went and scooped up her tights. “He really didn’t. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I pulled into her driveway and put my car in park. “I guess Griffin knows about us for sure now, huh?”
Cheyenne giggled. “The whole block might know about us for sure now.”
I grimaced. “I was afraid the police would show up when that alarm went off.”
“Oh my God, can you imagine? I would have died. Died.”
“You and me both.” I exhaled, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb, wishing I didn’t have to say goodbye to her, even for the night. “I’ll be glad when things are different and we don’t have to sneak around.”
“Me too.”
“Once I’m in the new house, things will get easier.” But then I frowned, remembering what Jessalyn had said about sleepovers. How long would we have to wait?
“I’m nervous about tomorrow night,” Cheyenne said quietly, “about how Mariah will react. I’m trying not to be, but I am.”
“I understand,” I said, putting my arm around her and holding her as closely as I could. “But remember that Jessalyn said resistance would only be natural, even though she loves you.”
“I know. I just really, really want it to go well.”
“Me too.” I kissed the top of her head. “But even if she’s upset tomorrow night, it doesn’t mean she won’t come around eventually.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry—I’m sure you’re nervous too. I don’t want to make it harder on you.”
“You’re not. Now you better get inside, before I lose my mind and try to get your clothes off in the back seat.”
She laughed, pressing her hand to my cheek and her lips to mine. “Call me tomorrow. And good luck.”
After making sure she got in safely, I went home and put my car in the garage. As I was walking to the back door, I couldn’t help admitting I was nervous about tomorrow night. There was a very real possibility that Mariah would not be comfortable with our relationship.
And what would I do then? Give Cheyenne up? Go back to secretly longing for her? Spend all my nights alone, missing her?
No. It was out of the question. I’d just have to work harder to make Mariah understand that I had enough room in my heart for both of them.
I was willing to fight for her.
Upstairs, I snuck into Mariah’s room, and looked down at her sweet, sleeping angel face, then bent to place a kiss on her forehead. It’s going to be okay, baby, I promised her silently. You don’t have to be afraid. You’re never going to lose me.
But that night, after slipping beneath the covers, I did something I hadn’t done in years—closed my eyes and said a prayer.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in God, but our relationship had been a bit strained after losing Trisha. I’d never understood how a God who was supposed to be good and just had allowed something like that to happen. It was an unsettling feeling, to have your faith stolen. To wake up one morning believing in something, and by nightfall, discover that belief has been destroyed.