“Do whatever you need. It’s yours anyway.”
I still don’t know what he meant by that.
With a sigh, I run my hand through my hair, stepping back to take in the space. The table is done. The gifts are wrapped and stacked neatly on a side table. It looks… nice. Better than I imagined. The kind of thing Tyler would smile at and say, “This is so me.”
A small smile touches my lips, then I feel it—his presence. Or maybe it’s just his scent that hits first, subtle but intoxicating. Clean, rich, like expensive cologne with a sharp edge. I turn slowly, already knowing what I’ll see.
Alex is dressed in a black suit, no tie, perfectly tailored to his frame. He looks like sin and silence and every question I’ve ever been afraid to ask. Dangerous and beautiful in the same breath. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him dressed in a suit. So composed, so devastating, like he belongs to another world and yet somehow still chooses to linger in mine.
“You’re staring,” he says softly, stepping out onto the balcony.
I blink, caught, flustered. He’s already walking toward me, his presence effortlessly commanding, like he belongs in everyspace he walks into. He stops just in front of me, eyes scanning my face with that quiet, unreadable calm.
“You’re also staring,” I murmur, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrays me, it’s too soft, too real.
He gives me that little smile, the one that curves only slightly at the corners of his mouth—the one he rarely shows anyone else.
“I can’t help it,” he says.
Then his gaze drifts from me to the setup I’ve spent all morning putting together. He takes it all in.
“It’s pretty.”
“You think so?” I ask, following his eyes to the view.
He nods slowly, then brings his gaze back to mine, and I feel the full weight of it settle into my chest like gravity.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For telling your chef to handle dinner and the pastries. I didn’t expect—”
“It’s nothing,” he interrupts gently. Then he slips his arms around my waist and pulls me into him, grounding me in that way only he can. His body is warm, solid. Familiar.
He leans in. I meet him halfway, my arms wrapping around his neck as our lips meet. The kiss is slow and steady, a quiet promise pressed between us. His cologne clings to his skin, and I breathe it in like it’s oxygen.
Sometimes I still can’t believe this is my life.
It’s been over a week since that solicitor showed up to talk to me about the trust fund, which to me is still a mind-numbing concept—and since Alex came back from his business trip, wrapped me in his arms like he’d never let go.
And he hasn’t.
Not once.
Even on days he goes to work and I escape to my apartment, he always finds a reason to come get me. He shows up at my door like gravity itself pulled him there. No matter how late it is, hebrings me back to the penthouse every night. And on the nights he doesn’t call his chef over, he cooks for me—which I always look forward to.
He fills in the spaces I didn’t know were still hollow. Buys me things even when I tell him not to. Pretends he’s shopping for himself, but we both know he’s not.
I can’t even admire something when we’re out without him sensing it and buying it for me. I swear, one day he’s going to buy me a baby just because I smiled at one.
Every night, we touch like we can’t get enough of each other, then fall asleep tangled up in each other’s arms. We still haven’t had sex yet. I know he wants to, and I don’t know what’s stopping him, but sometimes I feel like I’m the one hesitating, even though I think I am ready.
Still, waking up next to him every morning is one of my favorite things to do.
We finally break the kiss, and I try to catch my breath—his lips always leave me lightheaded every time. My hands slowly slide from around his neck, but I linger, still close, still drawn to him like a magnet I can’t switch off.
“I have to go to work, krasivy,” he murmurs, voice low and reluctant, but he doesn’t move. His eyes stay locked on my mouth like he’s memorizing the way it just felt against his.
“What time will you be back?”
“Late,” he replies, brushing a finger down my jaw. “I want you to enjoy the night with Tyler. Don’t worry about me.”
