Which, fine, he does.But still.
He discards the toothbrush, steps into the shower, under the spray and then turns to me, one brow raised, hand extended like an invitation I can’t quite refuse.
“Angel.”
I hesitate.Then I mutter, “This is crazy.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.“But it’s our kind of crazy.”
And God help me, I drop the sheet and step into the shower.
Chapter18
Ego
Of course I’m smiling.Grinning like a jackass in love.Because I am.
Fully, completely, without a single fucking doubt.
We got back to Jersey on Sunday.
And I stayed the night at Sabrina’s cute little townhouse, curled up beside her in a bed that’s definitely too small for both of us.
She sprawled across me like a human blanket, her thigh tossed over mine, her hair tickling my chin, her soft little snores making my heart do this weird thing I can only describe ashappy.
Yeah, I’m happy.
And I haven’t been happy in a long goddamn time.
I stayed again Monday.And Tuesday.And Wednesday.
Her place is charming, if tiny.Not enough room for both of us—not with the life I plan to build.
So I’m already talking to a realtor.
Discreet off-market properties only.I want a place with space.
A backyard.
Maybe a clawfoot tub so she can soak in after a long day of wrangling tiny humans.
Hell, maybe even a fireplace.
Something cozy.
Safe.
Something hers and mine.
Ours.
Because my intention is clear.
I'm going to propose.
Yeah, it’s fast.So what?
I’ve always been decisive.
