My throat tightened at the sincerity in his voice. He’d seen what I needed without me spelling it out for him. And he’d made sure I had it.
I ran my thumb along the edge of the desk, pausing over the grain. “You remembered.”
“It was hard to miss how much you like the desk with how you oohed and ahhed over it.”
“Thank you.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I guess I can’t sleep in here.”
His lips curved into a small smile. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we have two more guest rooms for you to choose from.”
He didn’t sound happy that I had another option besides sleeping next to him, but I appreciated the effort. “I’ll be in the blue room.”
Where I’d stare at walls that always reminded me of his eyes.
“Whatever makes you comfortable.”
I nodded, even though comfort wasn’t the right word for the storm swirling inside me. My new home office crackedsomething in my defenses I wasn’t ready to let crumble. But I couldn’t stop myself from lingering in the doorway, looking back at the space he’d made with my preferences unmistakably in mind.
Livingin the penthouse again felt strangely familiar and completely foreign at the same time. Ethan and I hesitantly moved around each other.
The first morning, I reached past him in the kitchen to grab a mug from the cabinet. For a split second, my chest brushed his arm. Ethan froze. His hand lifted instinctively, settling lightly on my waist as it had done so many times. Then he jerked back like he’d touched fire and apologized.
We kept dancing around each other that way. Him reaching for the coffee spoon just as I stepped toward the fridge, me brushing against his shoulder when we both angled toward the dishwasher. Each small accidental touch sent a tether pulling tight inside me, impossible to ignore.
But the worst moment came tonight. I padded out of the blue guest room around midnight, thirsty and restless. I didn’t think he would be awake, so I didn’t bother changing out of my tiny sleep shorts and the oversized T-shirt that skimmed mid-thigh.
Halfway down the hall, Ethan stepped out of his room at the same time.
He was shirtless and barefoot, a pair of pajama pants hanging low on his hips. And so sexy, it hurt.
We both stopped.
His eyes dragged over me before he snapped them upward with visible effort. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m good.” My voice was too breathless.
For one suspended moment, neither of us moved. The air between us practically crackled with sexual tension. I was so tempted to close the distance, press my cheek to his chest, and breathe him in like I used to.
My body swayed a fraction closer before I caught myself.
I wrapped my arms around my torso as though that could hold me in place. His face fell as I slipped past him toward the kitchen, feeling his gaze on my back—patient where he’d once been careless.
And maybe that was why my heart hurt even more as I filled my glass with water and listened to his footsteps fade down the hall.
Unfortunately, sleep refused to come when I slid back into bed. I twisted under the covers for hours, my body restless and my mind a tangled mess of hormones, memories, and the unsettling comfort of being back in a home that somehow felt more mine than it had before.
Eventually, I gave up trying.
The penthouse was dark as I padded down the hall. I expected the living room to be empty, but it wasn’t.
Ethan was slumped on the couch. His glasses were crooked, sliding down the bridge of his nose. A pregnancy book rested open across his chest, another splayed across his lap. Highlighters and sticky notes surrounded him like he’d been building some kind of color-coded battle plan.
He looked exhausted…but devoted in a way that cracked something tender in my ribs.
His hair was rumpled, and the shadows under his eyes were darker than I’d realized earlier. He’d clearly been reading for hours. The man who refused to read directions for anything had bought an entire library on how to be a father.
Without thinking, I reached for the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. The one I used to curl up with duringlate-night grading. I unfolded it carefully and draped it over him, smoothing the soft material over his chest so it wouldn’t slide off.
The moment my hand brushed the fabric near his shoulder, his eyes blinked open. “Callie? I’m going to learn everything.” He swallowed, fighting to stay awake. “I won’t fail you again.”
