It’s too dark to see anything, but I can feel her smile against my cheek. “You know I can’t make that happen. I have to travel for work, and even when your games are at home, they put you up in that hotel the night before.”
“But when you’re not traveling and I don’t have a game?” I ask hopefully, desperate for her to just give me the words that I need here.
“I won’t make you sleep alone again,” she whispers.
“Thank you,” I gasp, unable to keep my cool in this moment, no matter how much I want to. Even the relief hurts. “Thank you, Tilly. You killed me this week. I love you so much.”
She draws her hands back down, smoothing them over my chest and wrapping them around me, lowering her head as she hugs me. “I love you, Blaise.”
With that, all the sound, all the static and screeching and chaos, quiets in my brain. Nothing bad, none of the pain or the uncertainty or the mess that still needs to be cleaned up, none of that matters. I hug her just as tightly as she hugs me. “You mean it?”
“Yeah, Blaise. I really do. And you’re really lucky I do.”
“Yep. Noted.” I snag her arms from around my waist so I can hold her hands in mine. I release a sigh of relief when Ifeel the braided band on her ring finger. I feel better asking her, “You’re going to marry me, right?”
She snickers. But she also says, “Yes, Blaise. You’re welcome.”
I can’t even take offense to that. If she said no, I’d have a hell of a time explaining to her that as of Thursday, we’re already married.
Technically, as of July Fourteenth of two years ago. Since I couldn’t set it as the day we met, I set it for exactly one year before. Emily Hess confirmed that the date was valid, and I didn’t question what she meant by that.
“We’re going to have another baby, too?”
“Yes, Blaise.”
There’s a ring of joy in her voice that sparks some concern in me, like I just accidentally asked for something that I don’t actually want.
“We’re gonna find a surrogate and a test tube and have a baby?”
I swear I hear her rolling her eyes. “Okay, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes. And in the meantime . . .”
She stretches over me, reaching to the nightstand. To steady her so she doesn’t fall, I grab her waist and then slide down to her butt.
She’s not wearing pants. Or panties.
I’m about to say fuck whatever she thought she was going to do and flip her and pound her right into the mattress, but then I hear the familiar crinkle of a condom packet.
Fuck, I love this woman.
And she wants to be on top. I’m so fucking down for that.
I scoot her forward onto my stomach, the familiar trail of dampness she leaves on my abs pulling me right back to our first night together as I shimmy out of my boxers.
She starts to slide back, but I take hold of her ass, just for a second. Just so I can say, “I loved you the moment I saw you.”
She laughs and says, “Because I was dressed all slutty,” like she thinks I’m joking.
“No, Tilly. Ilovedyou. There was this girl who was hitting on me—”
“Because you were naked.”
I want to snap at her because I’m trying to be serious here, but I’m still at a deficit on apologies, so I let her have her sassy comments. “Because I’m a god, yes. But I didn’t want anything to do with her because you were there. I didn’t want to ruin your good night, either, by throwing myself on you, so I thought I’d just watch you to make sure you were okay.”
“And I wasn’t,” she says, her tone lowering, her mirth evaporating.
“No, you weren’t. But I got to rescue you. From those men, and from anyone else who harassed you, and—”
“I never thanked you for all that money,” she whispered suddenly.
