I turn right back around, fists clenched, but two Mulholland cousins grab me by the arms. A red haze clouds my vision, and I’m barely aware of Fern shoving at my chest or Heather Mulholland screaming at her son.
“Don’t do this,” Fern hisses. “Valencia needs you now.”
That gets through to me like nothing else could. Without a word, I swing back to Valencia and usher her into the hallway with an arm around her shoulders.
Fern follows us out, her expression full of regret.
“I’m so sorry, Valencia.” Fern pulls her into a hug. “Part of me knew there was a chance he’d punch Knobble here in his pretty face, but I never thought Ev would be like that toyou.”
“He’s always had a temper.” Valencia says this with hollow resignation, and Fern and I exchange a concerned glance. This little display has provided some alarming insight into Valencia and Mulholland’s past relationship.
“You’ll never have to see him again,” Fern promises. “I’ll make sure of it.”
The elevator arrives and Fern passes me a tote bag, which appears to be full of hastily packed food. We murmur our goodbyes to Fern and step on. The second the doors close, I haul Valencia into my arms and hug her with everything I have.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I grit out, kissing the top of her head. “But you didn’t deserve to be spoken to that way. Please tell me you know that.”
She lets out a shuddering breath and sags against me. I’m all but holding her up.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I’ll always be here for you,” I say, but this isn’t the place for grand declarations, so I order a car to bring us back to my apartment, where I can bare my soul to her in privacy.
Chapter 19
Valencia
We don’t speak in the car, but Gideon holds my hand the whole way from the Upper East Side to Chelsea, stroking my knuckles gently with his thumb. Focusing on that simple, repetitive motion helps me process what just happened.
God, I can’t believe IslappedEverett. But after years of remaining calm and rational during his explosive tantrums, I’d fucking had it. Maybe now his family can stop wondering why we broke up. And while my relationship with his mother might never be the same, I’m grateful that I haven’t lost her completely.
The tears have stopped by the time Gideon bustles me into his apartment. I think he would have carried me from the car to the door if he thought I’d let him, but I’m okay. Really.
Well, sort of. And only because Gideon is here.
He hangs up my coat, then peers into the bag Fern pressed on him.
“What’s that?” My voice comes out raspy.
“Looks like dinner.” He puts the bag in the kitchen, then comes back and cups my face. A line appears between his brows. “Tell me what you need right now, Valencia.”
I fist my hands in his sage green sweater and tug him closer. “You. I needyou.”
He searches my face for a long moment. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He does pick me up then, and I attack his mouth with soft, nipping kisses as he carries me to his bedroom. Somehow, he seems to know I need to be in control tonight, and after we shed our clothes, he maneuvers me so I’m on top. With his hands on my hips urging me on, I ride him until I can’t see straight.
And it isexactlywhat I need.
When it’s over, I collapse by his side in a tangle of bedding.
“Ready to talk?” he asks.
I let out a winded laugh. “Right now?”
“Maybe in a couple minutes.”
