He studies me, his eyes soft. “You’re living with our sister. I thought you loved her. If you love her, you’ll let each one of us decide to get tested.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have fallen in love. I should be worrying about her, not myself. I tried. God knows I didn’t want to see the distrust in your or Greyson’s eyes, but the pull was too strong.”
“Just as Greyson and I had to learn to live without our mom who had raised us for sixteen and eighteen years, Noelle will learn how to live with you if that time comes. Dad didn’t have the luxury of helping Mom. It was too fast. But Noelle has the inclination to fix things, and you must let her try.” J.D. slaps my back, not like at a ball game after a win, but like a brother.
It almost breaks me. I push my hand through my hair, thinking about how to handle this, and I decide to just be honest and open. When I walk back in, they’re eating so they don’t have to talk. Usually, it’s people shouting over each other with lots of laughter, clinking utensils, and second helpings. I did this. I made the O’Ryan family quiet for once.
Grabbing Noelle’s hand, I say, “Thank you for caring enough to ask your family, because I know they mean the absolute world to you, and for you to ask them was hard, but I’m not taking any of your kidneys.” I let out a shaky breath. “End of discussion, okay?”
No one argues. No one smiles.
The house feels too small now, heavy with things no one knows how to say. Paulina breaks the silence, asking, “Is your baby the size of a tennis ball yet?”
“Usually, the doctors go by fruit,” Sutton says with a gentle laugh.
Noelle says, “An avocado, so yeah, about the size of a tennis ball.” She scoots her chair back, scraping against the floor. “I’m not feeling well. Matt, can we go home?”
“Sure.”
Her family stands to say goodbye, but she waves them off. Greyson shoots a dagger at me for upsetting his sister, a look that saysmake it right.
Later, Noelle and I stand in my living room, the tension stretched tight between us.
“You don’t get to decide this alone,” she says, tears in her eyes.
“And you don’t getto volunteer organs from yourfamily body,” I fire back. “Have you thought about the situation that puts them in? Having to say no?”
“I was asking people that love you to get tested so that the person I love will be around to see this baby born.” Her voice catches between words. “And have a life with me.”
I reach out for her, and she flinches.
“Maybe I’m not what you need.” Every fiber of my being believes this. “You’re young and pregnant. You don’t need the stress.”
If loving her means watching her grieve me while I’m still breathing… I don’t know if I’m strong enough to survive it.
THIRTY-SIX
NOELLE
“Stress! It’s not fucking stress. It’s love.”
I push my finger into his chest, and he grabs my wrist, holding me in place. Every breath is weighted as our eyes collide. Suddenly, he rips his shirt over his head and puts my hand over his inked heart. “Don’t you understand how much I love you? That’s why I don’t want to be a burden. I should be protecting you,” he says, his voice raw and rough.
My thoughts are tornadic. One, I need to be physical with him, intimate with him. Two, I need to make him understand that trying to find a kidney for him isn’t a burden. He would go to the ends of the earth to find one for me, so why can’t he accept help?
First things first. I make record time getting his clothes off and fall to my knees, sucking him into my mouth. He groans with pleasure, like he needs to prove that he’s still a man. Because, God, he is. His body is perfection, and his shaft is hard and thick yet softer than a rose petal. I swirl my tongue over the tip and can feel his blood pumping.
He rattles off my name, stretching it out at times. “Yeah,Butterfly. So good.” I lick and suck and do all the things he taught me until I feel his cock jerk in my mouth. He pistons his hips and pumps into me, filling me. His body releases all the pent-up tension from his muscles and, hopefully, his mind.
I stand up, fully clothed, and he’s butt-naked. We usually start the other way around. “Thank you for letting me love you,” I say with a smile as I pull off my shirt.
“I don’t think you’re giving me a choice.” Matt wears a sly smirk, his lids still lazy from his orgasm.
“No, I’m not.”
My gaze drops to the rubber band barely keeping my jeans closed. I’m in that awkward in-between phase—too big for my old clothes, not quite ready for maternity wear. I slide them down, and I’m left in a tiny thong and a bra that can’t keep up with my growing chest.
“Butterfly, your body gets more beautiful each day.” His tongue swipes over his plump bottom lip. His eyes darken as he spins me around, caressing my ass. “Goddamn. You should be pregnant all the time. Fucking perfection.”
