I reach out and pull him into my lap.
To my immense relief, he lets me.
“Listen to me.” I cup his jaw and gently coax him to look at me. “I believe you. I will always believe you. No matter what. I will always choose you over my family.”
He buries his face in my neck.
“No, you won’t.”
“I will. I promise you, I will.” I kiss his head, his forehead, his jaw, the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t shut me out again. I was losing my mind.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, looking up at me with shimmering eyes. “I might have… jumped to conclusions.”
I deserve a medal for not bursting into hysterical laughter.
“You don’t say,” I murmur, brushing my thumb over his cheek.
He shivers.
“Are you mad at me?” He has fear, apology, and regret written all over him.
“I probably should be,” I say honestly. “I hated it. I hated every second of not knowing what was going on. I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt.”
I kiss him again.
“But I’m not mad. I was just scared of losing you.”
“I didn’t mean to make you scared.”
“I know. But next time, talk to me.”
He smiles. I fucking love it when he smiles. He’s in my arms. He’s alright. And he smiles.
“Talking might be too reasonable for me,” he mutters.
He shifts in my lap, his hands warm around my neck.
The air in the room changes.
It’s no longer heavy with drama—it’s charged with a different kind of intensity.
A strong pulse of desire shoots through me. I’m doing my best to stay calm.
“I don’t have to work tomorrow,” he says, giving me a shy look that is more like a question.
“I’m glad you have a day off,” I tell him, my fingers sliding into his hair. “Did you have plans?”
His hips move carefully when he leans closer.
His lips brush my ear.
“Voglio tutto.”
He kisses the corner of my mouth.
“I want everything. No more waiting.”
Then, in a whisper that breaks and heals my heart, “Please.”
