“Hey, Big Mike. Lynx.” Marta sashayed over, her tits and ass on display in some red strappy bodysuit.
“Hey, Mart, we’re in the middle of something important.” I wanted to punch myself square in the face for ever starting up with her.
“Oh, sorry. Wanted to say hi, that’s it. You look good, Lynx. Love the tank,” Marta said before walking away.
Lynx sucked in a breath before huffing it out. “Sometimes, I’m so pissed she helped rescue me, because I can’t hate her.”
I gathered Lynx in my arms and pulled her close, between my thighs. “Stop. Now, tell me what you were going to say.”
“I want to move in, but I’m scared. What if it doesn’t work out and I’m left with nothing?”
“Not possible.” Grabbing her by the hand, I said, “Come on. Let’s go to my ...ourplace, and make it official.”
There was no point in dragging out this discussion. Lynx was moving on, and moving in with me, which meant I was getting my way.
Finally.
I’D MADEit my business to know Lynx’s schedule. Her routine was no secret to me when she moved in, but she didn’t know that.
She went to class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and worked for me on Tuesdays and Thursdays. A few days a week, she had coffee with Lisa in the middle of the day. What she didn’t do anymore was go to the gym.
“There’s an exercise room downstairs if you want to use it,” I told her as she put her stuff into drawers. It had been a week since she’d agreed to move in, and now she was here unpacking. “It’s not as nice as the place you belong to, but it’s cool.”
Kicked back on the bed wearing only mesh shorts, with my shoes and shirt on the floor after my run, I surveyed the beauty in front of me. It was Tuesday, and we didn’t have anywhere to be for a while.
I needed to hit up the club on my way to the hotel, check on payroll shit. Lynx had an appointment with the doc before coming in to the hotel. None of that started until after noon.
“Unless you’re not feeling it. Working out, I mean.”
Her braids fell like a drape in front of her face. “Are you saying I need to work out?”
“Nah.” I laughed. “You look pretty damn perfect to me. Just wondering why you don’t go anymore.”
She shrugged.
“Gotta be more than that, babe.”
She slammed the drawer shut and looked up at me, some of the fire I used to know her to have burning bright. “Last time I was there, I ran into Marta. Look ... like I said, she’s nice. She saved me and she saved Sammy, so I shouldn’t feel this way, but you fucked her. Loved her. You still care for her, and I can’t reconcile that.”
There was nothing I could say. She was right. That’s how the second part of our story began, Lynx and mine, with me screwing Marta. This wasn’t a surprise. I knew all along it would come to bite me in the ass.
And now it was biting—like a hungry wolf.
“I can’t change that. It was wrong, shitty, stupid, whatever else you want to say. I was a dick. A lonely, scared dick. But I don’t ask you to change your past. I don’t care because you’re here now. With me. How we got here doesn’t mean dick. We’re here.”
She leaned back into the dresser, her warm, creamy skin tone a stark contrast to the cold steel. “When I met Nat at the park and we went for coffee, she told me if we were a romance book, we’d be labeledNOT SAFE. Our story isn’t for the faint at heart. Most readers would pass us over as another heartache tale. They’d call you out, label you the piece of shit they’d make you out to be with their words.”
“Babe—”
She shook her head. “But she also said that her story with Asher wasn’t safe either. And freaking look at them! Happy, making babies, all their dreams coming true. She said that sometimes from the worst pain, the most evil actions, happiness is born. She also said it was up to me to believe it or not; I just don’t know if I can. There are so many reminders. Lisa’s always asking me about over there, and Marta’s at the gym, and now therapy.”
“Come here,” I said to her.
She shook her head.
“Come here.” This time I growled.
She shook her head but walked toward me. Snatching her by the waist, I pulled her on top of me on the bed. With her thighs splayed on either side of mine, I resisted the urge to lift my hips and press myself against her. I wanted the friction, but I didn’t know what she needed.
