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“Who knows? He’s a moody fucker sometimes.” Bzzt. Thanks for nothing, elder sibling. I wanted the tea, not a glass of lukewarm tap water. The term “moody” could be used to describe the majority of guys I know. That men somehow managed to convince the world women are the emotional sex is the biggest scam of all time.
“In the middle of the day?” “Is that a crime? Didn’t you hear me?” “Hear what?” He throws his arms in the air. “You weren’t making any noise.” “I’m sorry, next time I’ll narrate my entire shaving process from start to finish.”
Sometimes I think I’m too much to be someone’s One. Too loud, too disorganized, too extra, too messy.
“Just a chick, huh?” Dallas interrupts. I look up to find him studying me with a shit-eating grin across his face. “Is that why you’re smiling like a fool?” “Go call your girlfriend, Ward. Write her a poem or some shit.”
God help me, I’m getting turned on in the middle of a strip mall parking lot.
“Though I have to admit I’m curious.” “Curious about what? Romance novels?” “What makes you tick.” “Who said this makes me tick?” He cocks a brow. “Why else would you be listening to it?” “For the plot,” I say, working to keep a straight face. “Obviously.” “Which happens to include the heroine getting destroyed in the bedroom. Repeatedly, if I had to guess.” Technically, the hero’s railing her on the ninth hole of a golf course after hours, but I’m not about to correct him on that minor detail.
EDGING VIA AUDIOBOOK. That’s a new one.
“I can help with that,” Seraphina offers. I glance at her. “Have you ever heard of the internet meme that says, ‘In every partnership, there’s a person who stacks the dishwasher like a Scandinavian architect and a person who stacks the dishwasher like a raccoon on meth’?” She narrows her eyes. “No…” “I mean this in the nicest possible way, Ser, but you’re the meth raccoon in this scenario.”
“Do you regret it? I mean, it’s made things kind of complicated now.” Complicated is an understatement. Ever since she moved in, it’s been like navigating a minefield. The more time we spend together, the closer I come to doing something I shouldn’t. “No, Tink. I could never regret you.”
“Too busy. No time.” “You never know.” She yawns. “Maybe your taxi light just hasn’t come on yet.”
AFTER A NIGHT of sleeping next to Tyler with zero release, my vibrating Sonicare toothbrush is starting to look more tempting than it should.
“This is dangerous, Tink.” “Why?” I whisper. “I don’t know if I can keep myself in check.” “So don’t.”
“I’m going to fuck you nice and hard, and you’re going to be quiet for me like a good girl, aren’t you?”
“What do you know?” He gently withdraws his fingers and dips his head, kissing my cheek. “You came before dessert did.”
Halfway through the movie, she’s out cold on my chest. The frame stills as I hit pause to hold our place. Sundays are my only day off from all forms of training, and there’s a chance we’ll have time to finish tomorrow before Chase and Dallas get back. While I wouldn’t have watched this on my own, now I’m invested. Warner is a total douchecanoe, and I’m rooting for his downfall.
He draws me into him and dips his head, nudging my nose with his. “Wear whatever you want, Tink. I know how to fight.”
The longer I play What If, the more one thing becomes painfully clear: I can live with it if my career doesn’t go where I want it to. But I can’t live with not having her.
I’m not just falling for her; I’m already there. Have been for a while. I love her. That final realization hits hardest of all, and it runs through my head on repeat for the rest of the flight.
“No matter what. I’m all in, Ser. I’d do anything for you. Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Don’t treat me differently because of this. Please.” Vulnerability pours out of me. “I need to feel like I’m still desirable. Like I’m still me, and we’re still us.” He raises a brow. “What you’re saying is, you want me to pull your hair while I tell you to shut the fuck up and take my dick like a good girl?” I giggle. “Something like that.”
He comes to a halt in his bedroom doorway, clutching a glass of water in each hand, and stares at me standing before him in nothing but his red jersey. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. I think he might be glitching again.
He tsks. “You look so pretty when you beg.”
“Question fifty-three.” He pulls me to him with my back to his chest, pressing his lips to the base of my neck. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” “As much as I love you?” “More. I would do anything for you, Tink. Name it, and it’s yours.”
“I love your belly. That’s my baby in there.” It’s hard to stay cranky when he says things like that.
“Question 1162,” he says. “Will you marry me?” “Hades,” I whisper, choking back a sob. “Of course I will.”
