And then I felt him.
The solid weight of his arm draped over my waist, heavy and unyielding, anchoring me there.His breath was slow and steady at my shoulder.
He hadn’t left.
He was here.
Awake.Holding me like leaving hadn’t even crossed his mind.
Carefully, I turned in his arms.
His eyes were already on me.Not guarded.Just...present.Dark with sleep and something deeper that made my pulse stumble.
“You’re still here,” I whispered.I studied him, searching for the fracture, the familiar pullback.It didn’t come.His fingers traced my spine slowly, grounding rather than claiming.
The corner of his mouth tipped upward, that infuriatingly arrogant smirk that made my stomach twist.“Well, thisismy yacht.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about that,” I teased, then swallowed.I couldn’t stop staring at him, at the raw, beautiful contradiction that was Creed.A man at war with himself—between distance and need, between control and surrender.His fingers slid lazily up my spine, tracing the curve of my back, but his gaze never wavered.
“I stayed in bed,” he murmured, his voice deep and deliberate, “because I wanted to stay right here with you.”
My breath hitched.Tempting.Too tempting.
“I like the sound of that,” I admitted, my voice unsteady.“But I can’t.”
He wasn’t tense.Didn’t withdraw.Just waited.
“The girls,” I explained.“Ice skating.”I had promised.“Ever since I told them stories about our skiing trip in Aspen, they’ve been begging to try it themselves.There’s a new rink near our place, and we’re going this afternoon.”
Something passed through his expression—calculation, hesitation, something close to fear—but it didn’t take over.
“Then I’ll come with you,” he said.
I blinked.“Creed—”
“If you’ll have me.”
There it was.A choice offered, not imposed.
For a moment, I could only stare at him—this impossible man tangled in my sheets, in my life.Then I nodded slowly.“Okay.”
The word felt heavier than it should have.His grip tightened, his teeth grazing my bottom lip in a slow, teasing bite.
“Good,” he murmured against my mouth.“But I’m not done with you yet.”
And as he rolled me beneath him, claiming my mouth with a kiss that was more promise than possession, I realized—
Neither was I.
* * *
WHEN WE PULLED UP TOthe house, the girls didn’t hesitate.Their excitement was instant, unfiltered—the kind that made my chest ache.
Creed managed it quietly.No performance.No charm turned up too high.Just patience, crouching to their level, listening like what they said mattered.
And it did.
In the car, their voices filled the space between us.Questions.Laughter.Creed answering without deflection, without walls.
