“You don’t say.”
The corner of his mouth lifts and I take that as a win. “And I’m the one that should be sorry.”
“Let’s just agree that we both reacted out of anger and frustration and move on, okay?” I reach out my hand to shake his.
It takes him a minute, but he finally reciprocates. “Fine.”
At that moment, the doctor comes in and pulls the curtain closed behind her. “Hi there, I’m Dr. Miller. I spoke to the nurse, and it sounds like Remy has been running a pretty persistent high fever?”
Henley presses a kiss to Remy’s head. “Yes. I’ve given her Tylenol, but it barely touched it. I’m worried about my daughter.”
“I understand. Let’s take a look.” She warms the stethoscope in her hand before pressing it gently to Remy’s chest, listening for a moment. Then she examines her ears, humming softly. “Oh yes. Definitely an ear infection.”
Henley frowns. “Where could that have come from?”
“Pretty common at her age,” Dr. Miller says, straightening. “If she’s been congested, fluid can build up behind the eardrum and cause an infection.”
“Her nose did start running the other day, but she’s also teething, so I didn’t think too much of it,” I admit.
“Could be allergies or a cold, but she has fluid built up in there, so we’re going to prescribe her an antibiotic. Then I want you to alternate Tylenol and ibuprofen to help get that fever down. A cool bath could also help.”
“I tried a cold washcloth on her neck, but she didn’t like that,” Henley replies.
“Her body is fighting off an infection and the texture isn’t something babies tend to like, so I’m not surprised. Don’t worry, though. You did the right thing bringing her in. Give us a few minutes and we’ll get you on your way.”
The doctor walks back through the curtain, pulling it shut behind her.
Henley releases the biggest breath I’ve ever heard from that man, kissing Remy on the head again before he peers up at me. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re here,” he says, reaching out for my hand and squeezing it. And before I can cry for the fourth time today, I simply nod and look away until the nurse comes back with a prescription and tells us we can go home.
By the time we get Remy’s medicine, return to Henley’s house, give her a bath, and change her, the adrenaline from today is starting to wear off. Henley’s in his room, attempting to get Remy down, and I’m sitting on the couch, staring off into nothing with my notebook open in my lap, the words to a song coming together for the first time in forever.
I haven’t been able to write in months, and after one of the most mentally draining days of my life, words started pouring out of me the second we got home.
Today has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but the thing that scares me the most is the jealousy I felt last night when Henley left his house. And then when he didn’t answer my texts, all I could envision was him in bed with someone until the woman’s face turned into mine—imagining the way his hips would roll as he thrusted into me, the way his lips would move over mine then trail down the sensitive skin on my neck, the way his eyes would darken as he held my gaze and watched me fall apart beneath him.
It’s that combination of jealousy and fantasy that made a song about wanting someone you shouldn’t flow so freely. I was scared to stop writing for fear that the words would disappear.
The sound of Henley’s footsteps coming down the hall breaks through my fantasy, which is probably for the best.
“Is she asleep?” I ask as I stand from the couch, closing my notebook and tossing it on the cushion, watching him stalk toward me.
But Henley doesn’t say a word as his feet carry him across the room, his eyes heavy from the worry of the day, his face contorted with confusion, and his hair in disarray. His broad shoulders frame his massive body, his presence becoming stronger and stronger, like all of the air is being sucked out of the room while our eyes remain locked on each other. For a moment, I forget to breathe as I watch him walktoward me with purpose, until he’s standing right before me, framing my face in his hands, and smashing his lips to mine.
I freeze, completely taken aback until his tongue passes over my lips and an embarrassing moan travels up my throat. My arms wrap around his neck and I’m kissing him back.
Holy mother of God.
Henley’s hands move from my face to my hips, pulling me toward him with a possessiveness that makes my entire body ignite, the peak of the warmth radiating between my legs. I move my fingers into his hair, the thick strands weaving through my nails as our tongues pass over each other. A groan from Henley vibrates against my lips as a wave of lust travels down each of my limbs.
No man has ever kissed me like this—with this much need, this much desire, this much passion. If our mouths weren’t connected, I’m sure I’d be hyperventilating right now.
Our hands keep moving, lips keep seeking, and tongues keep searching until I feel Henley begin to slow the kiss. But we’re still connected, his touch just softer, more reverent, less hurried than before.
With one last soft press of his lips to mine, he slowly pulls back and I barely lift my eyes before finding him staring down at me, passing his thumb over my bottom lip.
