Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,65

front door opening makes me straighten up. I wipe the sadness off my face and brace myself for whoever just walked into my mother’s house. I need to put on a brave face for them, whoever they are. The family always congregates here, and if my mom isn’t strong enough to be the host and the backbone of the family, that responsibility falls to me.

Except it’s not an uncle or aunt or sister. It’s Kit.

My heart plummets to my feet as my stomach knots. It’s not fair for one man to be so beautiful. His eyebrows tug together as his jaw clenches, his eyes boring holes into mine. A sprinkling of snowflakes dusts the shoulders of his jacket, highlighting just how broad he really is. Lucky snowflakes. After a pause, Kit pulls in a bag and steps aside to let Robbie through.

My mother coos and hugs my brother, squeezing him tight. I still can’t speak.

Everything’s spinning around me. Yes, I’ve spoken to Kit every day since I left. Yes, it’s the best part of my day. Yes, he’s propped me up and lent me strength while I’ve been struggling to stay afloat.

But having him here feels different. He doesn’t belong in this world. It’s too sad for him over here. Too fraught with expectations and the weight of family traditions.

He shakes his jacket off and hands it to my mother, who already has a coat hanger waiting. She gives Kit a kiss on the cheek and says something I don’t hear. I can’t hear anything except the rushing of heartbeat in my ears.

He’s here.

I’m not ready for this. I’d only just resigned myself to putting distance between us. I’ve been preparing myself to let him go and mourn the loss of our new relationship.

But seeing him here, stalking toward me as the fabric of his tight sweater stretches over his strong frame...It’s too much. I’m not strong enough to resist. He’s so beautifully male. Strong. Confident. Heading toward me with the conviction that this is exactly where he belongs.

Kit doesn’t pause. He just slides his hands over my hips and wraps his lean arms around my trembling body. I inhale him, feeling like I’m home for the first time in weeks. I try to resist, stiffening as he pulls me close. I try to fight the urge to melt into his embrace and accept the love he’s sending my way.

But I can’t fight it. With a long exhale, I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his chest, hearing his heart beating in his ribcage. It thumps against my ear, as if calling out to me. Mine. Kit’s hand cups the back of my head, tangling into my hair as he holds me close.

He places a soft kiss on my forehead, and I vaguely register that he’s doing it in front of Robbie and my mother. Is he okay with that kind of public affection? Robbie knows that we were…together. My mother doesn’t. Were we together? What’s going on between us?

My heart starts to race as my mind spirals. I pull away, wiping moisture from my eyes as I clear my throat. “You’re here,” I manage to squeak.

“Brought your things back from Woodvale,” he says, gravel rattling around in his voice. His eyes are glued to mine, and I wish he’d look away. At least then I could breathe without feeling like I’m being torn apart.

“Personal delivery. I’m honored.” I huff out a laugh, but Kit doesn’t smile.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” I lie. Can he tell that I’m only holding it together with wine and sheer necessity?

Kit squeezes my hand, turning to face my brother. Robbie moves to hug me, wrapping both arms around me and releasing after a quick squeeze.

“Hey, sis.”

“How was work?”

“Good to be back with this guy,” Robbie jerks his thumb at Kit, grinning. “I think he missed me.”

“Among other people,” Kit mumbles, stealing a glance at me. He moves away, and the space where he used to be feels empty and cold.

How the hell am I going to break up with him? The room feels warmer with him in it. Lights seem brighter. There’s a thrill in my chest for the first time in weeks.

And I’m supposed to push him away?

Kit hauls the suitcase toward me, nodding to the stairs. “Your room up there?”

“I can carry it,” I say, reaching for the bag.

“Don’t be silly.” Kit tightens his grip on the suitcase, arching an eyebrow.

“Silly? For wanting to carry my own shit?”

“For thinking I