“I remember the tiny shorts and the cheerleading outfits.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter. “Fine, favorite herbal tea, smarty?”
“Now you’re gettin’ weird.” He rubs his chin. “Peppermint when you’re cramping, honey and lemon when you’re sick, blackcurrant and apple?—”
I gape at him. “Are you some kind of stalker?”How did he remember all of that from so long ago?
“I also know you hate household chores but do it anyway — that love-hate relationship with the vacuum always made me laugh — you despise loud noises, like motorcycles, and you have a fear of flyin’.”
I poke my tongue out like a child. “For the record, I don’t hate motorcycles, just when you rev the engine unnecessarily. Just ride it like a normal person.”
He bursts out with laughter. “A little hard to not make a noise when it’s a straight pipe.”
“Do not tell me that, they’re illegal on public roads in all fifty states,” I say, pretending to block my ears. Straight pipes are basically modified versions of the exhaust pipe. Loud and downright annoying, not to mention unnecessary.
“What you gonna do, arrest me?”
I know his tone is suggestive, and it goes straight to my core. And now all I’m thinking about is Haze trussed up with my handcuffs behind his back while he’s on his knees begging—he told me he’d fantasized about it. Maybe a bandana or rope around his mouth to shut him up…
“Wouldn’t you enjoy that a little too much?”
He smirks, answering my question.
When the time is right, I wanna make it up to you. Instead of you beggin’ me, I want to be the one beggin’ you. On my knees, crawlin’ to you.
Something shifts inside me. That need for him that’s always pulled me back. It’s hammering away in my chest, making my blood heat, my palms sweat and my pussy clench. He’s wrong about waiting. We’ve been waiting long enough. I know he’s trying to be gallant, but he really doesn’t have to play these games with me.
The only thing that has changed about me? I got wiser. I know how to play the game better. However, I don’t wanna play any games with him. I have enough shit going on at work, and when I come home I don’t want work to get in the way like it did before. Maybe I haven’t always been the best communicator, but I’m working on it. I want to see this through. I want to see where we can go, now that we’re both older and we know what we want. I sure as shit don’t wanna have my heart broken again, but I know deep down that he is the only one for me.
“You know how to get me, don’t you, Little One?”
“I don’t know, Aust. Somewhere along the way, the lines became really blurred.”
His eyes locked on mine, his jaw set, and I know I can’t escape his mirth. I don’t want to be at his mercy, but this is where I always find myself. “Not really. I was a fool to let you go. It’s the one big regret of my life, and I know we’ve been over this before, but I truly want you to know how much I regret not fighting for us. I know now. I’ve always known. Once we separated, and I saw how much you thrived, I realized you seemed better off without me.” He takes a pause, and looks down, his eyes clouding over. This isn’t the big bad ass I know. But this is the man I love. “And it’s not your fault. None of it is your fault. I’m in charge of my own feelings, and how I responded. I’m not pushing any of that onto you. It may be water under the bridge, but it’s still somethin’ that plagues me.”
“What? That you think I’m too good for you?” I shake my head. “You know none of that is true. I wish I’d known that’s how you feel because I would’ve set you straight.” I tilt his chin up, so his gaze meets mine once more. “I never stopped loving you.”
He swallows hard. “You don’t know what it means to me when you say that.”
“It’s all true,” I whisper. “The one thing I could never do was just paint a pretty picture. I never wanted to hurt your feelings asmuch as you didn’t want to hurt mine. But I think we need to put the past behind us. We know what each of us did, so no good can come from rehashing it.”
“Do we need to pinky swear?” he laughs.
“We already made that marriage pact, remember?”
When I move my fingers to brush over his lips, he kisses my fingertips. “How could I forget?”
“Haze,” I whisper, my senses on fire. “We can’t do this here. Not with Max upstairs, it feels weird.”
“I’ll ask him to watch Crunch,” he says quickly. “We can take it to yours.”
I know I need to be close to him, and I tell him as much.See - you’re getting better at this. Communication. That’s all it is.
I groan. “Then he’s gonna know what we’re up to.”
He chuckles. “Honey, I hate to break it to you — but we’re adults, and we are married.”
I huff. “I know that. But you’re making it really hard for me to take things slow.”
