“No,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’m supposed to be with you. So are you going to invite me in or not?”
She doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me for a moment, her eyes narrowed on me. I realize in this moment that she still doesn’t trust me, and half of me fucking hates it, and the other half is determined to change that. I need her to know that she is safe with me. Especially after everything that’s happened and everything that hasn’t yet. We stand still for a moment, and I wish I could read her thoughts. But finally, she slowly opens the door and lets me inside.
As I follow her through the apartment, I can smell popcorn. I can hear what sounds likeGolden Girlsreruns playing on the TV, and I see her in her pajamas. She walks toward the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest and sitting on her feet.
“I don’t understand,” she says. “Aren't you supposed to be across town somewhere? It certainly looks like you’re ready to go.”
I smile and plop down on the couch next to her, unbuttoning my shirt and slipping my tux jacket off.
“No, actually,” I tell her again, “I’m supposed to be right here with you.”
Her eyes flash up to mine, and she looks at me, confused. I reach across the couch and put my hand on top of hers. I intertwine our fingers and gaze down at how good our hands look. “A few hours ago was the most amazing experience of my life,” I tell her. She shoots me a look and narrows her eyes. “What did I say?”
“You are the son of the richest man on the planet. You have money, and palaces, and boats, and a whole bunch of othershit out the wazoo. You’ve dated singers, and actresses, and literal supermodels. But you’re sitting here, trying to tell me that having sex with me in your apartment a little bit ago was the most amazing experience of your life? Do you just have, like, a slew of lines that you use?” she asks.
I laugh, leaning into her, but she pulls her hand from mine and crosses her arms over her chest. So, I reach over, put my hands on her hips, and pull her across the couch to me.
“Sex is sex,” I tell her, and I bring my lips close to her jawline and her neck. I drag my lips across her skin, but I don’t kiss her. When I get to her other ear, I bring my lips to it. “You’re right,” I tell her. “I’ve had sex with a lot of people. But never, after any of those experiences, did I still crave that person. Never did I feel like I needed them once the physical part was over. Never, while I was having sex, did I still have the thought in the back of my mind that I wanted more. Never…until about two hours ago.” Her eyes are open wide now as she looks up at me, even though I have her tucked in as close as possible. She still leans back, silently protesting my affection. I reach my hand out and cup her chin, tilting her face up to me. “No woman has ever left me,” I tell her. “So this is the first. But I want you to know that I will never be the one to leave when it comes to you. You’ll have to do that part.”
I see her swallow as she looks up to me, her eyelashes batting as she blinks.
“Why?” she asks.
“That’s a good question,” I tell her, “and it’s honestly one that I’m still sorting through myself. I can’t really put my finger on why, but I do know that, as far as I’m concerned, you are mine. I don’t want anyone else to have you in any way, and I will never let anybody hurt you, including my family.”
She reaches her hand out slowly, playing with a tuft of hair behind my ears before she pulls me down to her and takes mylips with hers. I kiss her gently, letting her know how much I mean every single word I said.
“So,” I say, “now that we got that out in the open, you owe me.” She raises her eyebrows, and I smile, kissing her softly again.
“What do I owe you?”
“You owe me an extra-long snuggle session to make up for the one that got cut short.” She’s laughs, leaning forward for one more quick, soft kiss before she curls up next to me.
“God, you’re so needy,” she says. She pulls a big gray throw off the top of the couch and puts it over top of us. Then she grabs a bowl of popcorn off the table and sets it on my lap. And I realize that I never need another gala, or board meeting, or tropical island, or royal dinner ever again. All I want is her and a bowl of popcorn.
I wake up as my phone is vibrating on the coffee table in front of us violently, but thankfully, she doesn’t even stir. She’s sound asleep on my lap with my hand on hers, and I reach for it as slowly as possible so as to keep her that way.
I look down. Sixteen missed calls. Some from my dad, some from my brothers, some from Carolyn.
Yeah, I’m gonna feel it for missing this one. But when I look down at her sleeping like the beautiful fucking angel she is, it’s so hard to care.
I don’t givea shit about disappointing my dad. After a lifetime of it, it barely affects me anymore. But I am a little concerned about my brothers. I lift her head gently, sliding a pillow underneath it, and tiptoe into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind me. I dial Julian.
“Where the fuck were you?” is how he answers the phone.
“I…I’m sorry. Wren is…she’s…she had a rough afternoon after this morning. I didn’t want to leave her alone. I’m…with her.”
I hear him sigh on the other end.
“Goddamn it, Brooks. Now is so not the time for you to grow a conscience and fall for someone—especially her.”
I sigh, brushing a hand over my face as I peer out the door at her, still sleeping.
“I—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“You should have been there, Brooks. It doesn’t look good. If you keep missing shit, he’s going to start asking questions. And we can’t afford that. If you won’t do it for us, do it for her. If they find out you two know each other—let alone that you’re fucking her—she could be in literal danger.”
I freeze.
