“I’m not?—”
“I can practically hear your brain spinning.”His hand slides up to cup the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.“Whatever you’re worrying about, stop.”
“This is going to make things complicated,” I say quietly.
“Only if we let it.”His tone is unconcerned, like sleeping with his executive assistant is just another business decision he’s made.“We’re adults.We can handle complicated.”
“Alexander—”
“Olivia.”He tilts my face up again, his expression serious now.“Do you regret it?”The question hangs between us.I search his face.He’s trying to appear casual, but his body has gone tense beneath me.
“No,” I say honestly.“I don’t regret it.”
His shoulders relax slightly.“Good.Neither do I.”
“But we should probably talk about?—”
“Later.”He presses another kiss to my forehead.“Right now, just rest.Let yourself come down from the high.We’ll figure everything else out later.”
I want to argue.Want to hash this out now, set boundaries, establish rules.But my body is heavy with exhaustion, sated and warm in his arms, and my eyelids are growing heavier by the second.
“Just for a few minutes,” I murmur.
“As long as you need.”
His hand continues its soothing path along my spine, and I feel myself drifting.The last thing I’m aware of is the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear and the warmth of his body wrapped around mine, solid and real in a way that makes everything else fade to nothing.
* * *
Two hours later,I’m standing in the kitchen in fresh clothes—yoga pants and an oversized Christmas sweater with a reindeer on it—my hair still damp from the shower.Alexander’s in the living room, and I can hear him moving around.
My eyes go to the keychain attached to my phone.I once thought it was cute that Chase made this for me.The leather once gave me comfort, rubbing it between my fingers, brushing it against my palm.But why did I still have it now?
I should have thrown this away the moment we broke up.Or at the airport.Or even when I saw him with Amber when I returned to town.What was I holding onto it for?
I look at the keychain for a moment longer before unlinking it from my phone.Without hesitation, I throw it in the trash where it lands on top of pictures of Chase, the one that’s been in the kitchen since forever and the one I ripped down from the corkboard on my bedroom wall.Tossing them was the first thing I did after showering.
Washing my hands, I wonder why I feel nothing about throwing away the remnants of the relationship that defined my younger years.My eyes flick towards the doorway leading into the living room and my lips curve.
The hot water didn’t do much to wash away the pleasant ache between my thighs or the flush that keeps creeping up my neck every time I think about what Alexander and I did upstairs.
What we did in my childhood bedroom.
The only other man I’ve been with is Chase, and what Alexander did to me today, I’ve never experienced anything like it.It made me realize how selfish of a lover Chase really was.It was only ever about his pleasure.I was never a priority.I always thought that’s how it was supposed to be.
Recalling how Alexander held my legs apart as he dove in like a man starved has me blushing.I press my hands to my flushed cheeks, trying to calm down, when the man in question appears in the doorway.Alexander’s hair is damp, too, pushed back from his face, and he’s wearing dark jeans and a navy sweater that makes his gray eyes look almost silver.
He looks good.Unfairly good.
“What were you doing?”I ask.
“Your mother said she had extra wrapping paper in the bookshelf.I took it upstairs.Thought we could wrap up the gifts we got your family.”
“We can do that tonight,” I say thoughtfully, taking out a dish.“But Mom gets really old fashioned wrapping papers.They’re cute, but I like getting my own.Mine are a little more flashy.You know, sparkly.”I grin at him.“And I want to get ribbons and stuff.We can go pick them up later today.We’ll have a whole arts and crafts session tonight.”
“Sounds like a date.”He smiles, moving towards me.“What are you making?”
“Shepherd’s pie.”I walk over to the refrigerator, grateful for something to focus on besides the way he’s looking at me, but he follows closely behind me, pulling out ingredients of his own.He’s so near I can smell his woodsy body soap, and along with the way he just called it a date, my heart is doing a little flutter.“Mom made extra mashed potatoes and ground beef yesterday.I just need to layer everything and heat it up.”
