"I did. I was saving. I was saving every penny I earned. Other than my used truck, I didn't spend any of it. But then your mama . . . I don't make enough monthly to pay for her stay there and so I had to supplement with some of what I'd saved. What little I have left, I wanted to keep in the bank so I could come to you as soon as possible, move where you were. There was no point in fixing up this house when I knew I'd be leaving soon."
Her shoulders sagged. "You put your own happiness aside for me, and then for my mama."
I paused, feeling uncomfortable. I had never wanted her to know any of this. "You make me sound selfless, Tenleigh. But you should know that I was plotting ways to get you back. Some of them involved bribery . . . groveling. I'm not above guilt trips."
She laughed a sad laugh and shook her head. "You're so above guilt trips."
I put my hands in my pockets and looked down.
She was quiet for a moment. "You were so angry the first time you saw me back in town," she said sadly.
I flinched, looking up. "I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't prepared to see you back here. I was shocked and angry. I was planning to come for you, to finally get out of here. And then you were back, and again, I was stuck here. And I thought you'd not only come back, but you'd come back because of Jamie. I thought you'd come back here so you could be with him and that I'd have to see that, every day. I'd just lived through hell, and it seemed like a new form of it was beginning again."
"Kyland," she said sadly. "You could have left anyway. Me being back here, even now, doesn't mean you have to stay." Her eyes flitted away and then back to me.
"Yes, it does. If you were inside my heart, you'd know that it does."
She looked at me with a sweet, confused smile and I couldn't help wanting to pull her into my arms and beg her never to leave. "Tenleigh, when I say it was my choice to do what I did, to sacrifice getting out of here so you could, I meant that I did it happily. I mean that. I suffered, yes, but I realized I would happily suffer for you, because that's what loving someone is. Willing to do anything for them, willing to make any sacrifice, suffer so they don't have to. I loved you then, and I still love you now."
"Kyland," she shook her head. "I don't know what to say. This is so much . . ." She walked to my couch and sunk down in it, the springs groaning. She looked up at me. "I bombed my finals," she said. "I did horribly on them so you would get that scholarship."
"It worked," I said going to sit next to her. "Only, we both had the same idea."
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry."
"Me neither."
She looked at me. "Kyland, I know I'm back, but it's by choice. I can leave if I want to, get a job somewhere else—anywhere I want. You gave me that. You gave me that freedom, that opportunity. You gifted me that. And now, let me gift the same to you. The school will be built in six months and I'll be making good money. I don't need to move into a house. I'll live in my trailer and I'll sacrifice for you like you did for me. I might not be able to pay for a real fancy college, and you'll have to work for your living expenses, but—"
"Ten," I said, bringing my fingers up to her lips. "If there's any chance of us working things out, if," I ran my hand through my hair, feeling exposed and vulnerable, "if there's any chance you can start to forgive me, that we can rebuild what we had, then I want to stay here. I'll work in the mine, or somewhere else maybe. If you—"
Her fingers were suddenly at my lips the same way mine had been at hers a minute earlier.
"I already do forgive you. And I never stopped loving you." She shook her head. "I tried. I tried so hard, but it didn’t work. I love you, Kyland, I always have."
I sucked in a breath. Gratitude. Relief. Love. She left me breathless. She forgave me. She'd never really left. My fighter. This girl. My beautiful girl.
I stood up so fast she squeaked out loud. I scooped her up into my arms as she let out a short, surprised laugh.
"I'm taking you into my room now. And pitifully enough, I don't even have a bed. There's a quilt on the floor and a pile of blankets on top of that. And I feel ashamed and sick that I'm about to bring you in there, but God help me, I can't wait one second longer to get you naked."
She laughed. "Kyland, walk," she ordered. "Walk fast."
She didn't have to ask me twice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Tenleigh
I was in Kyland's arms. He was taking me to his bed—his bed on the floor. And I didn't care. Not even a little. Although the state of his house was sad and pathetic, and it made me want to cry for how he'd lived all this time, I would happily be with him anywhere. And he had done this for me. Kyland.
He set me down when we got into his room. It looked the same as I remembered it, except in the place where his twin bed had once been, just like he'd said, there was a quilt laid out with a folded pile of blankets on top of that.
We began undressing slowly, the air filled with a delicious anticipation. Unlike yesterday, we were going to take our time—enjoy every moment. I pulled my shirt off over my head and dropped it to the floor. Kyland's naked chest was already on display—hard muscle covered in smooth male skin—and I took a minute to let my eyes roam over it. I licked my lips, my eyes focusing on one dark brown nipple. God, he was even more beautiful than I remembered, every part of him.
"Tenleigh, if you keep looking at me that way, this isn't going to last very long."
My eyes darted to his and I laughed shortly. "Have you," I cleared my throat, "been with anyone else? It's okay if you have," I rushed on. "I wouldn't blame you of course, I just . . . for me, yesterday was the first time since I was last with you and I want you to know that, even if—"
"Tenleigh," Kyland said, his voice raspy. The expression on his face was a mixture of tenderness and relief. "I haven't been with anyone else."
Relief flooded my own system. "Why?" I breathed.
"Because, how was I going to get you to forgive me for leading you to believe I had slept with someone else if all the time you were gone I really was sleeping with other people? Because I have a perfectly functioning right hand and because I haven't wanted anyone since you."
Tenderness filled my heart first and following that, I couldn't help the image that came into my head of Kyland lying right here, his thick erection in his hand as he brought himself to orgasm. I shivered with desire, moisture trickling from between my legs.
"I haven't wanted anyone else either," I said.
Kyland released a long breath. I moved closer to him, my fingertips lightly moving over his skin, up to his shoulders and down his arms. He was utterly still and when I glanced up at his face, his expression was tense, almost pained.
I couldn't believe this. I couldn't believe I was here, with Kyland. He had given everything up for me. He loved me. He'd never betrayed me—he'd only ever sought to make my life better. And I still loved him. I'd always loved him. Somewhere, somewhere inside, the hurt had seemed so unbelievable because it didn't make sense. I knew this man. I knew his heart, his soul. And he was only good. I sucked in the emotion that threatened to overwhelm me. Kyland brought his hand to my cheek and stroked his thumb over my cheekbone, and I leaned in to his touch. Home.
I needed to be as close as possible to him. I needed to touch him everywhere. I needed to convince myself this was real.
I reached down and unbuttoned my jeans, sliding them down my legs, along with my underwear, and dropping them on the floor. Kyland did the same and we stood before each other naked.
I glanced down at his straining erection and like the day before, I couldn't help reaching down to caress it several times from base to tip. Kyland let out a guttural groan.
When he leaned toward me, I expected his kiss to be hard—filled with the trembling lust I was feeling—but instead it was soft . . . sweet and slow. He tilted his head and nibbled tenderly at my lips, finally sliding his tongue against mine in a hypnotic dance.