Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,30

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“I would have dressed a little more conservative if I’d known we were going out,” I concede.

“Nothing wrong with your outfit. Something was wrong with that asshole.”

A woman in her late thirties brings our drinks to the table. “Hey, guys, I’m Doris. Tommy is going out on a break, and I’m taking over for him. Do you need a couple more minutes to decide, or are you two ready?”

“Great, you scared the shit out of that boy,” I tease and slug him.

“Good, at least Doris won’t ogle your boobs.”

With a little head shrug, Doris stays with us through the conversation. “Maybe just a little, honey.” All three of us erupt in laughter, and turning toward Wells’s face, his own happiness matches mine in the moment.

“You told me you were scared of heights,” he reminds me as we stand in line at the Seattle Great Wheel.

“Yeah, but just because something scares you—and you may think you shouldn’t do it—doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” I’m hoping he understands how this statement relates to us. I know he cares for me, more than just a man solving a case. I sometimes think I’m just a case when doubt creeps in, but then I’m left to believe I’m more to him. The insecurity is a motherfucker.

It’s confusing. He’s confusing.

“Okay, Confucius, let’s do this then.” His little snide comment leads me to believe he understands the dig.

Sitting across from one another, his side of the car leans a little bit. I’m not much taller than five feet, two inches, and he’s well over six feet. Close to six feet, four inches if I were to wager a guess. He towers over me, but as I’d witnessed earlier, he’s large in other areas, too, and this makes me grin.

“Okay, if you want to switch, let me know.” I have the city view, and he has the ocean view.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m moving from this spot,” I reply. My knuckles are white, as I have them in tight fists, and the idea of moving physically makes me almost sick.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I can get the controller's attention.”

“No, life is precious. We have to live in the moment. Not wallow in our limitations.”

I can’t take my eyes off him when he winks my way, sending shivers down to the core of my stomach. I repay his gesture with a smile, and as the wheel turns, I take in the views of the city, relishing the quiet company of the man with me. I’ve imagined this moment so many times in my dreams, but nothing compares to the reality of having him in my life. This right here, beats everything I could have ever imagined.

I’m driving back to the university in my car after warding off Wells’s more protective nature. He had almost insisted he’d drive me back. It was a memorable day of hanging out with him, making him breakfast, defending my honor, and so much more.

He’d made me promise I’d text him when I got back to the dorm. It was the only way he was going to let me drive my own vehicle back. I take the long fifteen-minute walk from the parking lot to the dorm since it’s limited. Although with my situation of having no family to leave my vehicle with, I was one of the few freshmen allowed to bring my car.

The door is cracked as I approach the room, and my heart drops. What if someone has snuck in and hurt Greenlyn? I know little about her, but the way she cared for me yesterday, calling Wells during my breakdown, she earned a little bit of my respect.

“Greenlyn?” I’m apprehensive at the thought of what I may see when I open the door. These are the thoughts that creep up on me, which my therapists have tried to lessen through the years. Instead of a bloody body, which I’d convinced myself in a matter of seconds I’d find, Greenlyn is sitting on her bed in a skimpy pair of cheer shorts and a sports bra with her headphones in her ears.

“Greenlyn,” I call a little louder. “Are you insane? You left the door open,” I chastise.

“Oh, hell, Malia, you scared me.” She hops down from her loft-style bed. “Yeah, I know you don’t like people in the room, and I was studying my new routine. One of my cheerleader friends ordered Chinese and was bringing it by.”

“Okay,” I concede. “It’s just with the letter and