Chapter 83

Wyatt

Handshakes are special because some people only touch your skin, while others affect your soul.

Maeve is sitting next to me in the middle seat of the car. I'm glancing out through the window, pretending Maeve's hand on my thigh doesn't reach deeper than the surface of my jeans. The truth is that she is under my skin, and I can't remove her from there.

My eyes briefly glance down at Maeve. She is sleeping peacefully, and with a heavy sigh, I brush her hair with my hand.

"You're a pain in the ass..." A soft smile touches my face, and with warmth flooding my senses, I hug her to my chest. "But I wouldn't want you ever to change."

Maeve snores in response, and I chuckle.

When I was younger, I was always smiling and trying to make people like me. I feared being lonely, which surprise-surprise made everyone think I was annoying. Little Wyatt was too horny for attention, and I was bullied for it.

As a child, I was small and motherless.