He chuckles. “Can’t have anyone seeing my girl.”
My girl.
My heart slams as a breathtaking smile tugs at my lips. My arms tighten around his neck before I use my heels to smack his thighs. “Onward!”
He shakes his head, but I don’t miss the grin he’s sporting as he carries me out to the parking lot. I give one final wave to the girls before Lox cups her hands over her mouth and shouts at us.
“NICE PANTS, ROW ROW!”
There’s a whistle from Alana as Thalia cackles. I hear Atlas’s loud, booming laugh across the lot before Connor joins in.
“How… How did we miss that?” Connor wheezes.
“They look nice!” Atlas jokes. “I might need some matching ones with Short Stack’s initials.”
Rowan is holding his laughter in, but I can feel his shoulders shaking beneath me. “These are originals. Nothing can beat them.” He calls back, sounding carefree. It warms my chest as I place my hand over his heart to feel the rhythm of it beneath my fingers. I commit it to memory, hoping mine beatsjust the same.
Rowan is a lot of things. He’s stoic, orderly, and sometimes an asshole, but he’s also kind and compassionate. He feels deeply, even if those emotions are shoved away into the recesses of his heart. He thinks he lost himself long ago, but I know that isn’t the truth, because the man holding me is someone special.
And I think he’s taken far more than me.
I think he’s stolen my heart, too.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rowan
I’m drifting in and out of sleep, but I know something is wrong. I wrench myself awake as my hand slaps over the cold, empty space beside me. The room is dark, and panic grips me as I jump out of bed.
This isn’t real.
It has to be a nightmare.
“Addison!” I shout, my voice carrying through the open bedroom door. I don’t even think of grabbing my pants as I stalk down the hallway. “Sunshine—”
“Good morning,” comes her soft, amused reply from the office.
I halt in my war path, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I stare at her from the threshold. She’s dressed in my old t-shirt, which she’s designated as her sleep shirt, while she perches on my office chair. Her hair is mussed from sleep, and she smiles radiantly at me as her fingers stop tapping across the keyboard. The morning light from the windows shines down on her in tendrils, making a glow surround her brown hair.
An Angel.
She looks like an absolute Angel.
“Um, good morning,” I mutter sheepishly.
She rests her elbow on the desk before propping her chin in her hand. “Where’s the fire, Assassin Man?”
I snort at the ridiculous nickname. “You weren’t in bed…”
“Aw,” she pouts, motioning me over. “Were you worried?”
I lumber over before she stands, and lets me ease onto the chair. She sits down on my lap with a happy wiggle that has my half-mast cock hardening beneath her. She rests her head back on my chest as I smooth her hair away from her face and kiss her temple.
“I always worry over you,” I mumble.
She smiles, taking the very breath from my lungs before she leans forward and captures my lips in a slow kiss. “Sorry. I was working.”
My brows jump as our noses brush. “Working? On what?”
