Page 38 of Keeping Score

If only he knew how right he was. Not just at night, but every moment—just the thought of him was enough to make my days feel like sunshine.

When he was gone, it was like a winter day. Cold, barren, bearable—but only just.

“Well, if that’s all I’m good for, you better put me to work,” he said, picking me up in a swift motion before leading us to the bedroom.

I squirmed, trying to break free from his arms before he tossed me onto the bed. I covered my eyes, knowing what was going to happen next. I couldn’t see it, but I felt the mattress sag under his weight when he leaped onto the bed beside me, wrapping me in an ironclad embrace.

I didn’t know I was giggling until he pulled my face toward him and laughed.

“I love that sound,” he said, before leaning forward to kiss me.

I rolled on top of him, planting kisses all along his cheek and neck and finally his lips—to show him what I wasn’t saying in words.

Yes, I missed you.

Yes, I’m happy you’re home.

Yes, yes, yes, I love you.

He sighed contentedly, brushing the hair behind my ears as I hovered on top of him.

“I missed you, Mags,” he told me, with that casual sincerity that always took me aback.

I didn’t know how he could do that. Just say what he felt all the time, without worrying what the response would be.

I didn’t say anything, just nuzzled down beside him and waited for him to tell me about his time.

“Recap?” Brody asked, and I smiled.

It was our ritual every time he got home. Our time to share what we’d missed while we’d been apart.

I nodded, waiting for him to start.

“Your brother hurt my feelings.” He fake-pouted. “And I won a hundred bucks in the casino.”

“How much did you lose?”

He winced.

“Six hundred.”

“Brody!” I slapped his chest.

“Hey!” He held his hands up to brace himself from attack. “Those little slot games are addicting. Plus, don’t they pump the air full of oxygen in those places so you don’t get tired?”

“How would that even work?” I shifted onto my side until I was leaning on his chest to look up at him.

“I don’t know, it’s just what I’ve always heard.”

“Poor, naïve little boy,” I teased.

“At least I have you to teach me the ways of the world, huh?”

“It’s a good thing,” I agreed.

“And I have you?” He asked, unusually earnest. “For always?”

I nodded, frowning at whatever worries I heard in his voice.