The bed is too close.
Her scent is too close.
Everything is too close.
What the fuck am I doing?
‘Nice room,’ she says, her gaze sweeping the space as the door clicks shut.
I almost laugh. Small talk. From Taylor.That’show bad this is…
‘I figure they’re all the same.’
I only wishwewere. The same, that is. But we’re not. One question and everything’s shifted. We’re in some strained, alien territory that has me questioning the very line I’ve lived by since the day we met.
‘Pretty much,’ she murmurs, her fingers grazing the furnishings as she keeps on moving.
Aside from the best-man attire tossed on the bed and my toiletries beside the travertine sink, nothing about this room is me. Too rustic. Too quaint. Natural stone walls, sun-warmed wood, a flower-lined balcony – all easy on the eye. Much like her. And as far from me as you can get.
She reaches the bed and pivots, one hand drifting to her ear, fingertips brushing behind her lobe. A nervous tic I know by heart. I wait for her to speak, but she doesn’t. She just nips the corner of her mouth and finally stops pacing to look at me.
Really look at me.
Eyes wide open with what she’s asking.
So open, it hurts.
So vulnerable, it tugs at something deep, coiling and aching, begging me to cave.
Every instinct flares to life.Fuck. Flee. Fight.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I cross the room like a drowning man lunging for land. Snatch a bottle of rum from the drinks tray, pour a glass, glance up. She nods, so I pour another. Drop ice in hers without asking and press it into her hand.
‘You wanted to talk, Stone. So, talk.’
I’m already walking away, taking my drink to the balcony – distance, cool air, I need it all.
‘You were wrong,’ she says, coming up behind me, her perfume sliding into my lungs and wrecking me all over again. ‘Idoknow what I’m asking for.’
I throw back the rum. Stare at the hills, the rolling sea, the sky split with stars… anything to keep me steady as she steps into view. Moonlight on her skin. That dress glinting against her body. Everything I want close enough to take. And all of it loaded with this. Her request.
‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but?—’
‘You’re asking me to give you my kid.’ I close my eyes, and Iseeit:mykid inherarms. ‘Even if you raise them alone, I’ll still be there. They’ll still be a part of me. Part of us.’ I turn, finally looking at her. ‘You get that?’
She doesn’t answer right away. Just stares up at me, eyes dark and earnest as hell.
‘I meant what I said, Axel. I trust you to be the father of my child. No expectations. No demands.’
‘Knowing where I come from? You want that for your kid?’
‘Where you came from doesn’t define you. You’re good. Kinder than you think. And…’ Her gaze warms as it drifts over me. ‘Any child would be blessed to have your genes.’
My heart stops, then slams hard, pounding against the cage I’ve kept locked since the day I met her.
‘I mean it, Axel.’
Which bit? Blessed?
