“What?” His brows pull together. “You don’taddto the complication, Alex. Is that what you thought I meant?”
I laugh unsteadily. “I don’t know, I—”
“No. You make all of that shit better. You makemebetter.” He gazes at me affectionately, then tucks me in against his chest. I can hear his heart beating a steady, solid rhythm and it soothes me. My eyes flutter closed as happiness sweeps along my limbs, sinking into my bones. And in the warmth of Michael’s arms, I feel my broken heart begin to piece itself back together.
“You really do make me better,” he murmurs into the top of my head. “You want to know what I’ve been working on this evening?”
I draw back to find a smile nudging his mouth. “What?”
“My historical novel.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I decided to have a go at writing it. You were right. I should do it for myself.”
“And how is it going?”
“Ah, well.” He gives a sheepish laugh. “It’s pretty tough. I’ve never written a novel, so it’s a steep learning curve. But so far, I’m loving it.”
I beam up at him, buzzing with the knowledge that I helped push him towards one of his dreams. Just like he did for me.
“I’m so glad,” I say, loving the excitement on his face. I can feel it pulsing through him, see it in the way his eyes are lit up. “You’re a brilliant writer, Michael, and I know that your fiction is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to read it, and…”
“Alex,” Michael murmurs, his lips hovering over mine.
“Yes?” I say on a sigh, gazing up at him. His dark eyes are hypnotizing me, his masculine scent intoxicating me, his hands on my back radiating warmth through my whole body.
“Stop talking, so I can kiss you.” Then, finally, he brings his mouth down to mine.
47
Michael takes my hand and pulls me inside, closing the door behind us. “Did you have dinner?”
I shake my head, unable to curb the huge smile tugging at my mouth. Being back in his apartment, somehow…. it feels like I’mhome.
He takes my coat. “We were just going to eat, if you’d like to join us?”
I follow him into the kitchen and find Henry pulling plates out of the cupboard.
Shit. I didn’t know Henry was here. I hope he didn’t hear me pour my heart out to Michael on the doorstep. I quickly wipe at my moist cheeks.
Henry turns to me, grinning. “Hi, Alex! I made—” he breaks off in concern when he sees me trying to compose myself. “Are you okay?”
I glance at Michael in question, and he puts an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss to my temple. He gives me a little nod and I turn back to Henry with an incandescent smile.
“Yes. I’m… Your dad has made me very happy.”
Henry looks between the two of us and blushes. “Okay,” he says awkwardly, turning away and adding another plate to the pile.
Michael chuckles, releasing me and reaching for a bottle of wine. Henry takes the plates through to the table and I wonder if, perhaps, I should come back later. Poor Henry is obviously finding this whole thing a bit much.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Michael. “I didn’t know you guys were about to have dinner. I should go.”
“What?” Michael sets the wine down and turns to me, taking my hand. “No way. I want you to stay.Wewant you to stay.”
I waver, but when I spy Henry looking at me hopefully over Michael’s shoulder, a smile slides onto my lips. “Okay.”
I stand in the kitchen, watching as Henry serves up three plates of lasagna. Michael pours two glasses of wine and sets them down on the table. Then the two of them turn to me, grinning, and gesture for me to sit. And my heart feels like it will burst when I lower myself into my seat beside Michael, opposite Henry. It reminds me of Christmas, when I spent the evening here with them and Agnes, and felt so warm, so happy. Now I realize why. It’s like I’ve found my place, the place where I’m meant to be. I know I’m getting so far ahead of myself, thinking this, but I can’t help it. And as Michael takes my hand under the table and squeezes, I have to blink against happy tears.
