100 Lifetimes of Us (The Romantics #1)

by Maggie C. Gates

That’s sexy as hell. What if you save her from some crazy assassination attempt, and you two fall in love? That’d be so fucking cool. You’d have the best story to tell your hypothetical future grandchildren.”

Happiness isn’t a zero-sum game. When you spread it around, everyone wins.

Miles paid my surprise no mind. “This is gonna be the greatest protocol meeting ever. I’m so stoked. Are you ready to get some grub and figure out how you want me to guard your brilliant brain and the body that it comes in?”

“When I’m in groups of people or with people I don’t know, I get nervous. I clam up and say nothing. People think I’m weird or think I’m being a bitch, when really I’m just repeating everything that I need to say in my head to get it right before I try

to say it. But by the time I’m ready to say something, the moment has passed, and the cycle starts again.” I sucked in a breath after the monologue. “So, I bring Ophelia with me.

I shrugged and pulled my hand back, leaving our fingertips barely touching. “My dad used to say, ‘cold hands, warm heart.’ I think I’ve realized that it means I’m empathetic because I have anxiety.” I sighed. “It’s a fight-or-flight response. The body pulls blood away from extremities to protect the major organs.” His eyes were kind as he reached for my hand again and squeezed. “Don’t worry, Just Annie. I’ll keep your hands warm.”

I slid my hand beneath her chin and lifted it until those mesmerizing eyes locked with mine. “I’ve got your back. Whatever you need. Day or night.”

Her lips were the colors of ripe cherries from the red, white, and blue popsicle she had devoured.

“I’m not talking about you being Whitney. Don’t get me wrong—that part of you is cool too. And I’m excited to see you crush it on the book tour. But Annie owns the best pie shop in all of Rhode Island.” I nudged her with my elbow. “She’s sweet as hell and pretty darn funny.”

I tried to suck in a breath, but it barely came. “So you’re a mafia romance fan, are you?” Miles smiled at me. “Nah. I’m an Annie fan.”

“Showing up and stepping into the ring is brave, even when you’re scared.”

“And you’re brave.” His palm pressed against my spine. “I’ve got your back. Now, step into your ring.”

“Hell yeah, I am! What do you think?” I pulled the sides of my suit jacket apart so she could check it out. “It’s not a fanny pack. It’s my Annie Pack.”

I leaned forward until my mouth was nearly flushed with her ear. “If she’s just another character, then how do you think her leading man would react to her talking shit about herself?” Annie didn’t flinch. “Because from what I’ve seen, you’re a little more Whitney and a lot less Annie than you think you are.”

He told me that instead of chasing my competitors, I needed to start chasing my future self. Try to outdo that guy. Everyone’s chasing something. Just don’t chase someone else’s dream. Stay in your lane and chase the version of you that you want to become. You’ll never lose.”

“Butterflies are brave. It takes courage to work on yourself. It’s a painful, ugly process to grow into who you’re supposed to be. It takes strength to break a shell and become yourself.”

“Courage is vulnerability manifested.”

I wouldn’t call what she did “managing” her anxiety, but Annie was used to surviving it. I wanted more for her than just surviving.

“Books take people out of their everyday lives. They give them a moment to say, “wow.” It makes grown-ups believe in magic again. It makes us believe in possibilities. It makes us hold on to the belief that, at any moment, we could meet someone who changes our life and existence completely. It makes us see the best in our enemies. It makes us hold our friends closer. It gives us compassion and empathy. But most of all, it gives us hope that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.”

But Annie had thrown me for a loop in every possible way. I didn’t just want to protect her. I didn’t just want to make her smile. I wanted her to feel safe enough to lean on me for all the things she didn’t know how to ask for.

“In this lifetime, you’re the only one that exists.” His nose brushed mine. “So fuck her.” I kissed him. I latched on to him like a magnet that had found its match. There was nothing that could have stopped me. It was such an out-of-body experience that I wasn’t quite sure I had even done it until he was kissing me back, those strong lips working with mine like we were trying to start a fire.

Miles kissed me the way that he approached life—with everything in him. I never wanted it to end. When oxygen became imperative, he slowly pulled back. “There,” he said, more out of breath than I had ever seen him. “Now we’re even.”

“There she is.” “Who?” I whispered. “The girl who actually exists.”

“They’re wrong, you know.” He held me just a little closer. “And I’ve said it a million fucking times, but I need you to hear me. The fact that you didn’t give up—the fact that you continue to show up as the person they tried to tear down—makes you the victor. Fuck them.” “I know that now.

How much fucked up news we’re bombarded with every day? How many once-in-a-lifetime horrors we’ve experienced to the point where it doesn’t even faze us anymore? Do you realize that people use your books as a shield to survive the dumpster fire of society? That it keeps hope and love at the forefront of their minds and hearts? You did that. The way I see it—they’re goddamn lifesavers for some.”

“Because I trust you and your intentions. And maybe you kissing me and me kissing you and you sharing your past crossed some lines, but fuck it. I’m glad we crossed ‘em.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want there to be lines between us. We’re on the same side.”

“Stop. Saying. That. Fucking. Word.” I was breathing just as heavily as he was, and I really wanted him to kiss me again. “What word?” His fist balled against the glass. “‘Just’ is my least favorite four-letter word. You’re not just anything.” He licked his lips, his eyes flicking down and studying my mouth. His usual chipper tenor turned to a lethal baritone. “I don’t like being angry, Brave One. Don’t make me angry.”

“If I had to guess, I’d say that you’re his peace.”

“How does that feel?” He was just as breathless as me. I could feel his heart pounding against mine. “So good.” I stared into his eyes, mesmerized by the way they glinted under the gym lights. “Yeah?” He grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against his body. “And how ‘bout this?” he asked, breathless. His lips grazed mine again. “How does this feel?” I threw my arms around Miles and kissed him. His hands tangled in my limp ponytail, digging into the loose strands of hair. “Way better than working out.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get you off of me.” The path of kisses he trailed down my neck set off ringing in my ears. Everything was Miles. His hands kneading at my skin. His mouth on my throat. His breath mingling with mine. His knee teasing the apex of my thighs.

“I guess I used to think that happiness meant having everything all at once. And now I’m realizing that maybe happiness isn’t the endgame. It’s finding it in each chapter.”

“What do you say, Brave One? Are you willing to go for a hat-trick?”

“I’m gonna need verbal consent.” My lips grazed her ear. “Because if I remember correctly, you said you’d get drinks with that fucker unless you were tied up.” I gently grazed her cheek with my tie-wrapped fist. “And I don’t plan on letting you get drinks.”

“I will worship your body. I will take care of all your desperate needs.” I widened my stance. “But after that little stunt downstairs, you’re going to drop to your fucking knees and crawl to me like a good girl.”

Miles smiled against my cunt. “I’m just playing with your body because I want to. Because I love the way you feel beneath me. Because touching you and making you feel good is what I want to do for you. Because it turns me on. So just relax and enjoy it.”

“If I kissed you when we woke up this morning, I wouldn’t have been able to stop.” With one quick motion, he had me pinned against the wall with his hand between my legs. “But let this be a reminder to you that this—” he cupped my pussy “—is mine.” His gaze lowered to my mouth as he thumbed my lower lip before kissing me again. “This is mine too. All of you.”

“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you until the only name on your lips is mine.”

Annie chewed on her lip. “I have someone in my life who makes me brave. He challenges me. He pushes me to be the best version of myself. He shows up for me when I’m not willing to show up for myself. And I trust him with my life.”

“I think love can take on a lot of different forms,” Annie said. “Sometimes love is loud. It’s grand gestures, glowing social media posts, roses, and candlelit dinners. Sometimes love is quiet. It’s a listening ear after a long day. It’s showing up with a snack and filling a need. And sometimes love is sunshine. It’s a light that you don’t know how you ever lived without.”

I’m choosing to show up and get in the ring in spite of being afraid of the outcome. Falling on your face isn’t failure. Losing isn’t failure. It’s a lesson. It’s a starting point. Giving up before a fight is failure.

I was so fucking proud of her. But more than that, I realized that Annie wasn’t just a hookup. I was in deep shit with this woman. I was head over Crocs in L-O-V-E with my client.

Miles pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Listen. There’s nothing about you that needs to be fixed. Absolutely nothing. Every part of you—the good parts and the scary parts—makes you who you are and I don’t want that to change. I want you to live the way that makes you feel about yourself the way that I see you.”

“Give me all of you,” he whispered against my lips as he backed me up against the bookshelf. My back hit the rows of book spines. “Give me your fears. Give me your anxiety. Give me your insecurity. I don’t need you to change yourself first. I don’t want you to change yourself at all. I want it all because I want you.”

“Sex isn’t math. We’re not solving a problem for a specific outcome. It’s art. Sometimes it’s the most extraordinary painting and sometimes it’s a doodle just for shits and giggles.”

“How about this—when we fly home, I’ll take you to the opera and we can find out together.” That shut her up. “What’s the matter?” I asked quietly. Annie just shook her head. “You make it sound like a date.” “It would be. I want to date you.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Fairchild. I didn’t think I would ever find something I loved more than MMA—” I looked at Annie. The joy on her face softened my heart “—but I think I may have.”

“Tell me what you feel now,” I whispered as I came down from the high. Her head lolled across the pillow. A faint smile painted her lips. “Like I’m yours.”

“There aren’t any guarantees in life, Brave One. That doesn’t mean you stop living. So maybe we take it one day at a time.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Don’t focus on the outcome of the fight. Focus on the next swing.”

“What are the chances I can get you in my bed tonight?” I asked as I refastened my seatbelt. His grin was nefarious. “I have one condition.”

“Hell yeah, superstar. All about those blood spurts and pussy squirts.” She facepalmed.

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