Am I being manipulative? Probably. But I honestly don’t care, because it’s the truth. If Tate walks away from this, it’ll shatter me.
“I can read between the lines of the things you three don’t tell me. I know you’re dangerous men, but I also know that none of you would ever hurt me,” I plead with him, my hand gripping his wrist.
“What if I’m just like him?” he replies.
“Like who? Your father?”
“He ran this club into the fuckin’ ground, Lily. You lived under the same roof as him for a decade and you didn’t know. How do you know I won’t turn out to be just fuckin’ like him?” he asks. His eyes grow glossy, but he doesn’t cry.
I cup his face, and he leans into my touch. His beard is thicker than usual, but it’s soft against my palm.
“Because your father never asked those questions. He never worried about his morality or who he hurt. You care, Tate. Your heart is so fucking big and you don’t even realize it. Please let me in,” I plead.
Now my own eyes are welling with tears.
His hands come up to cup my face, and we just stare at each other for a moment before he speaks again.
“I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I’m fuckin’ scared, Lily.”
“So am I. Be there for me, and I’ll always be there for you. I love you, Tate,” I tell him softly.
His eyes close, and he takes a deep inhale as he presses his forehead against mine.
“I love you too, so much,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss against my skin.
The touch makes me shiver, and I sigh with the sense of relief that fills me. I know all our issues aren’t resolved, but this feels like a step in the right direction.
I tilt my chin in his hold and his lips meet mine. The movement is tentative; I’m scared of spooking him. But when his lips touch mine, it feels so right. It feels like the pieces are clicking together and a part of my heart is healing.
I don’t know why, but as he kisses me, I cry.
He doesn’t stop kissing me softly, but his thumbs wipe away my tears while he continues.
“I never want to hurt you again, Lily Rose,” he murmurs when he breaks away from the kiss.
“So don’t,” I reply, knowing he would never do anything to truly hurt me.
He presses his forehead against mine again, just stroking my cheeks as my tears fade away.
“I have your mom’s new number… if you want to call her,” he offers, pushing my messy hair behind my ears.
I blink at him and try not to cry again.
“I’d like that.”
This small moment means everything to me, and I know we need more time together, moregenuinetime together.
Tate must be having the same realization as me because he asks, “Can I have you to myself tonight?”
I can’t help but grin and nod enthusiastically.
“Good, why don’t you have Doc take another look at this today too,” he says, gliding his thumb just underneath my scar, but not touching it.
“Axel needs to have his wound checked, anyway. We’ll go together.”
“How is yourhusbandgoing to feel about havin’ to share you with someone else?” He uses the word husband as a swear, but I look past it.
“I think we’ve gone well past the point of sharing, haven’t we?” I ask, and his cheeks heat an adorable shade of pink. I kiss his flushed face as I get out of the bed.
