Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“What about this?” I ask, pointing at a folder I noticed on the desktop, but didn’t want to pry. However, my curious nature has gotten the best of me.
Tye glances at me, something flickering in his eyes. “It’s…”
He turns back to the screen, and he clicks on the folder. When it opens, my heart catapults into my chest. Looking back at me is a photo of myself and Tye when I was sixteen. He’s only a year older than me, but in the picture, he is a young man while I still look like a girl.
We’re both smiling, and the fair is in full swing in the background. There are a few mates I now recall from school laughing and hugging in the photo as well. But it’s the image of me and Tye that’s gripped my heart.
“I haven’t seen that in so long,” I whisper as the tears burn my eyes. “I remember that day like it was yesterday.” Only because it was the day I realised how much I loved Tye.
He’d bought me some fudge, while we played football on the pitch not far from the centre of town. I’d scraped my knee, and he crouched down to make sure I wasn’t bleeding too badly. He patched me up without question, but it was his fingertips that caused the sensations to warm my cheeks. There were goosebumps all over me. It was a spark that never stopped.
“It kept me company while I worked,” Tye admits before he turns his chair towards me. “There’s somethin’ I wanted to ask ye,” he says slowly.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I can’t find the words to respond to him. All I can do is look at him silently as he stares right back at me.
“I want you to stay,” he finally says and the breath I’d been holding is whooshed from my lungs in a long exhale. “I mean, ye don’t have ta stay with me, but ye belong here. This family is made up of people from broken pasts. They all have a story to tell, so if ye were worried about fittin’ in, ye’ll belong, just like I do.”
For a long, heavy moment, all I can do is stare at him. I didn’t consider he’d want me here.Yes, we’d slept together last night, but that was something that had been in the cards for years. I had wanted to give him my virginity.
When I don’t immediately respond, Tye says, “Ye don’t have to be with me if ye don’t want te.”
“Are you even listening to the shite you’re spewing? You’re having a laugh. Aren’t ye?” I giggle when he glares at me. “I’ve wanted to be with you since I was sixteen,” I admit. “Do you think I’m going to not want you?”
“I didn’t want ta assume,” he throws back, but the smile on his face causes my chest to fill with emotion I wasn’t expecting.
“I’ll stay,” I tell him, and he quickly pulls me onto his lap.
“Promise me ye’ll never leave me again,” Tye whispers along my lips. The warmth of him causes me to blush as his hands trail down my back. His touch is electric. It always has been.
“You know I won’t.”
“I just didn’t want ye to feel as if ye needed to be with me. I never want you to feel obligated by anythin’ I ask of ye.”
I’m sure he’s worried about what I’ve been through. And I want to talk to someone about it, to work through the past, but Tye is my world. He always has been.
“I know.” I twine my hands around his neck. “But I’m here to stay. So, you’ve no need to worry about me walking out ever again. I’m making my own choices from now on.”
The smile that curls his lips is perfect. It’s one of the reasons I would spend all my time staring at him. When Tye smiles, it’s as if the sun is streaming from within him.
“I have a present fer ye,” he tells me. “I was goin’ta give it to ye yesterday, but with everythin’ that went on, I wanted to wait until we had time to ourselves.”
“I didn’t get you anything.” Even though I know he won’t care about it, I feel as if I’d like to get him something.
“Ye’re gift enough fer me, Einin.” He reaches for a drawer in his desk and pulls it open. Inside is a mess of stationery, but amongst everything, is a small box that he sets on my palm. “It was somethin’ I got fer ye before ye left. I just didn’t have the bollocks to give it to ye.”
I look up at him with the box in my hand. My pulse is thrumming in my ears, and my throat is thick with emotion. We used to buy each other presents every year. Twice a year—birthdays and Christmas.