Chapter Seventy-Nine
Before the bike had even stopped vibrating, I was down the porch steps.
My boots slammed against the wet gravel, kicking up pine needles and mud as I threw myself toward him. Jake swung his heavy leg over the frame, meeting me halfway with a raw, desperate momentum. He caught me around the waist, lifting me off my feet and pulling me flush against his cold, soot-stained chest.
I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled of cold asphalt, exhaust, dried mud, and copper—the sharp, unmistakable scent of fresh blood mixed with road grit.
"Jake," I gasped, the word coming out as a sob as I squeezed him tighter. "You're back. You're actually back."
"I told you I was coming, princess," he rasped against my ear, his v
