I turn back to the bag, continuing to unload its contents. “Also, you didn’t text me today. I figured you were either asleep or punishing me. And if it was the second one, I was hoping to trade a little penance for pad see ew.”
That earns me the faintest laugh. “Donovan—”
“Let me feed you. I can just leave the food here. No pressure. No expectations. Just… leaving you with Thai food and your questionable taste in Hulu documentaries.”
“Excuse you, ‘Cult Cuisine’ is a masterpiece.”
“I stand corrected.”
Her arms loosen, her jaw easing.
“Fine,” she says, voice still cool but with a thread of warmth. “But you better have brought the rice pudding.”
“I brought two.” I hold up the plastic containers. “One for each of your personalities.”
As I lift out each container one by one, I do my best not to stare, but it’s hard not to notice everything about my Emma.
The exhaustion behind her eyes. The remnants of tears she doesn’t want me to notice. The strength it takes for her to let me back into her space without knowing whether I deserve it yet.
Once I’m done unpacking the food, I gaze over at her again, resisting the urge to rub the tension from the back of my neck. Resisting the urge to cross the room and pull my beautiful little brunette in my arms.
Not when I don’t deserve it…
Not yet.
Finally, I break the silence.
“I’m not here to fix it all tonight,” I tell her quietly. “I’m not even sure I know how. I just… wanted you to know I’m trying. I meant it when I said I’m not disappearing.”
Her gaze swings to mine, at last. She exhales soundly. “You look like shit, too, by the way.”
I fight back a smirk. “I also haven’t slept.”
“Because of the baby?”
“Some. But mostly because of you.”
Her expression falters, just slightly, then sharpens again. “Donovan, I meant what I said when I responded to your texts earlier. I need time to figure out what this means for me. What I want. I don’t get to just fall back into your arms because you remembered I like extra peanut sauce.”
“I wasn’t expectingthat,” I lie.
“Maybe not. But you do always expect to win. You walk into a room assuming it’ll bend to you.”
“I walk into a room prepared to fight for what matters.”
Her gaze drops for a second before flicking back to mine. “And if I tell you this isn’t a fight you can win in a night?”
“I’d say I’m not going anywhere.” A pause. “And I’d ask what time you’re eating tomorrow so I can drop off round two.”
She lets out an almost-laugh. “You’re relentless.”
“I’m something.” My pulse pounds. “Relentless. Exhausted. Inappropriately turned on by your hair in a messy bun…”
A flicker of heat flashes through her molten hazel eyes, and instantly, I’m back in that hotel suite with her again, my lips at her neck, my hand between her thighs.
And I know she’s there, too.
A beat passes before I notice Emma swallow.
