Only now?
Nothing’s the same.
Everything’s different—in the best possible fucking way.
She’s lying in my bed, wrapped in flushed skin and tangled sheets, blinking up at the ceiling like she doesn’t quite know where she is.
Like she might panic if I move too quick.
Like she might vanish if I say too much, too fast.
So I don’t.
I swallow down the thousand things I want to tell her.
That she’s so beautiful to look at, so damn sweet to taste, so precious to touch—it breaks my heart.
That she wrecked me.
That something in me settled the second she fell apart in my arms.
But I don’t say any of it.
Not tonight.
Baby Girl doesn’t need my feelings right now.
That’s mine to carry.
It’s my job to figure out how to hold her without weighing her down.
I’m a big boy.
I can handle it.
I can handleher.
Now I just have to show her.
“Do you need anything, Baby Girl?” I ask, my voice rough. “Water? Bathroom?”
She hesitates.
“Um… bathroom?”
I nod and rise from the edge of the bed, offering her my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She blinks at it, fingers clutching the sheet to her chest like modesty is even possible after what we just did.
I tilt my head, smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“You can’t possibly be shy now, can you?”
Her cheeks go pink.
God help me, I love that bubblegum blush.
I huff a soft laugh and bend down to swipe my flannel off the floor.
