I needed to talk to Jenna. Because, through everything, she’s my voice of reason. She’s the only one who can help me see things clearly, dissecting every single word that came out of Austin’s mouth. Maybe she’ll help me see something I missed. She’s the only one I trust enough to tell me what I need to do, no matter how badly it might hurt the man I love.
Love.
His heavy, steady breathing changes, laying in bed next to me, but he hasn’t moved. He’s awake, but his arm remains firmly gripped around my waist, where it was all night, his head remaining nuzzled into my neck.
"Good morning, Herring," he whispers, sending shivers down my spine. He’s only ever referred to me asHerring.
My last name.
And it made my heart tingle every single time.
Ever since high school, he’s never called me by my first name unless conversations were serious. Only then would he refer to me as Cassandra, but it was rare.
I have a feeling I’m going to be hearing it a lot, and I already know I’m going to hate the way it sounds on his lips.
"Did you sleep okay?" he asks, scattering soft kisses on my shoulders and the back of my neck.
"I did," I lie, fully aware that I probably slept an hour at most.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I can hear the concern in his voice, but I know he won’t push me if I tell him 'no'.
Instead of replying, I turn to face him. I need to see his face and look into those emerald eyes. I need to see if there’s even a glimmer of hope or forgiveness.
Both things I need so desperately, but unsure if they’ll exist once he finds out the truth.
"Not right now. I need to speak to Jenna," I admit, and his face floods with defeat.
He’s hurting, and it’s because of me. I hate that I’ve caused him pain, but I just needtime.
I need the facts.
Austin may have told me all about Harley’s paternity, and how he found out about it, but he was only skimming the surface and not being completely honest. Like there was something on the tip of his tongue that he desperately wanted me to figure out, so he didn’t have to confess it outright.
Harley doesn’t utter another word.
He turns his body to get off the bed, and heads for the bathroom to run his usual morning shower.
How do I fix this mess that I had no part in creating, yet feel completely responsible for?
Sliding out from under the covers, I stand from the bed, willing one leg at a time to follow him to the bathroom. Watching as he stands underneath the water, I allow myself to take in the sight before me.
His wavy, wet hair is slicked over to one side. His golden skin glistens under the water, while my eyes find their way to his arms, decorated with veins, and I ache to drag my hands down them. His bare chest and abs are tense while he lathers himselfwith soap, and I let my eyes trail down his defined V until they land on his cock, still hard from his morning wood.
"You checking me out, Herring?" He chuckles, squinting one eye open, washing the shampoo out of his hair.
"I might be." I feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I lean against the door frame. He still makes me nervous.
"You can join me, but I can’t promise I won’t bite." He cocks a brow, stepping out from under the water, reaching his hand out for me to take.
I can’t stop the smile that forces its way across my face as I pull his t-shirt over my head, slowly sliding my underwear down my legs, and I know his eyes never left my body.
"God, you’re perfect." His voice is nearly a whisper, but he said it loud enough for me to hear.
Taking his hand in mine, I step into the ice-cold shower before I let out a scream.
"Why is the water so cold?" I gasp as I quickly reach for the tap to change the temperature.
"Because I don’t like to feel like I’m showering inlava, Herring," he jokes, making fun of the fact that I need my showers to almost melt my skin off.
