God, being with him like this beats any form of therapy.
“I thought you’d dislike it because you like to play with my hair a lot.”
“You haven’t gone bald, Emily,” he said, deadpan.
She couldn’t help the god-awful, strangled sound that left her. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“And even if you had, I’d still kiss the top of your head like I always do.”
“Nicolas…”
“Shhh…” he hushed, still holding on to her like his last hope. “Just one more minute. I swear.”
She sighed, but her ears perked up when she heard him start humming a familiar tune. It was Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” A classic. Of course, his taste in music could not be rivaled.
“Emily?” he whispered, knocking her out of her reverie.
She raised her face to his, knowing something serious was coming with her nickname gone. “Yeah?”
Before she could prepare for it, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
Her stomach fluttered. She was glad that he was finally taking liberties with her.
Nicolas’s lips pressed harder against hers, breath mingling, with a desperation that left her trembling.
She couldn’t help but let him kiss her. In any way he wanted. As much as he wanted.
Once he pulled away, he breathed, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
He could ask her deepest, darkest secrets and she’d tell him. That was how spellbound she was.
“I’ve asked this question over a hundred times in my head, but none of the answers matter unless they come from you. Tell me, Emily…” He swallowed harshly. “Are you going to be my beginning or my ending?”
Her stomach sank.
Philosophical Nicolas.
She understood the weight of his question.
Emily wished it was as black and white as he made it out to be. She wanted to ask him the same thing. She was desperate to be a phoenix rising from the ashes after Jake’s betrayal. If Nicolas did something to break her newfound trust in him, she’d tumble back into the fragile embers of herself. She couldn’t imagine the pain of it all.
It was an undeniable truth that she’d been falling for him. And yet…even after acknowledging the risk of it, for all the destruction he could bring, the fire she might be tossed into, Emily still felt herself desiring him.
“I’ll be both,” she finally whispered. Her eyes found his. She saw a depth to them, so magnificently unwavering, it looked like he’d stopped breathing. “I’ll be your beginning and your ending, Nicolas.”
“Why?”
What did he mean bywhy?
“Why would you do that?” he continued. “Why would you allow me that, Emily? I’m not worthy of you. I’m not the kind of man who deserves someone as…as good as you.”
She laughed hollowly. “I’m not a good person. I married you to get revenge on my ex-fiancé.”
“He got someone else pregnant. The fucker deserves it.”
Her hand went up to cup his cheek, not at all surprised he’d found that bit out. “What I’m trying to say is nobody’s perfect. Not you. Not me.” She held his gaze. “You ask me why? Because I’m willing to give our imperfections a shot at becoming something that feels like it’s perfect.”
