Lexi: They were from Matt.
My heart sinks, and I hate that it does. I like Matt. Like, seriously. He’s been a constant source of support in Lexi’s life for years now. But… he’s not Sterling.
I breathe deep and decide to keep that thought to myself. Sterling is no longer an option, seeing as how he’s engaged. But now that I’m thinking about it, is he really?
Tiffany’s been M.I.A, and while I haven’t talked to him about it to confirm, things are rocky at best.
I shake the thought out of my head. No. He’s not an option. And if Lexi and Matt can find some semblance of happiness together, then that’s all that matters. She deserves that andthensome.
Lexi: But I’d also like to add that they were to congratulate me on passing my exam. He knew I was super stressed preparing for it, so when I got an A, he… got me flowers.
Jules: Just fuck him already, Lex. That poor man’s been silently begging for it for years.
Joss: Jules! God forbid a girl take things slowly!
Jules: They’ve known each other what, five? Six years? How slow are we talking?
I’m locked in, wanting to see how the rest of the conversation plays out, but the knob to our bathroom turns when West steps out. I toss my phone to the nightstand and look up. His eyes are already set on me, but I’m having a hard time looking him in his.
A white towel hangs low on his waist where he secured it. His chest and arms are still damp, and tiny droplets of water drip from the ends of his hair, racing down his inked shoulders.
His eyes dance over me. Not in a wolfish way. There’s just this look in his eyes that isn’t hiding how happy he is that I’m home.
A smirk lifts one corner of his mouth. “I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you’re already gossiping?”
At first, I’m not sure how he knows, then I follow his gaze to my phone as it lights up almost constantly with messages from the girls.
“Well, if it makes a difference, it’sgoodgossip. At least, I think it is?”
I don’t elaborate about how I’m still not sure how to process this whole Lexi/Matt thing. When I saygood gossip,I just mean it’s not celebrating anyone’s downfall.
He laughs softly, and the warmth of the sound moves over my skin. My eyes stay trained on him as he turns his back toward me, then drops his towel. My breath catches as I take him in. Every solidly sculpted muscle, every stretch of smooth skin. Then, a few seconds later, the bedroom is dark, and he’s slipping into bed beside me.
Unlike last time, I don’t have to give him the all-clear to touch me. We gravitate toward one another beneath the covers, and we fit together in that way I love. His large body curves around me as I back into him, getting as close as I possibly can. For too long, there was so much space between us, and now that we’ve finally made it back to one another, I never want to feel that again.
A soft kiss presses to the back of my shoulder, and my eyes close for a second at the feel of it.
“Thank you.”
I breathe a laugh. “For?”
“For believing we can still make this work,” he says. “For not forgetting how to love me through it all.”
I stroke the back of his hand where it rests against my stomach, tracing a thick vein near his still-healing knuckle.
“I could never forget how to love you, West. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Even when things got bad… all I wanted was you.”
Another kiss warms my skin, and I expose my neck when his mouth travels there next. I turn in his arms, and the movement brings us face-to-face beneath the covers. A few seconds pass without either of us saying a word. The only sound in the room is the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the steady rhythm of West’s breathing.
His hand slides up my hip to my torso, then my neck. Warm, slow, familiar. He stops at my jaw, tilting my face toward his. Our eyes lock and something deep and certain settles between us as his lips brush the corner of my mouth. He’s gentle, almost cautious. But when I lean into him, making it clear I’mnot holding back, the kiss deepens. A current of desperation passes between us, and my body hasn’t forgotten what it feels like to belong to him.
Like all I’ve ever wanted is to be his.
He exhales against my mouth, and the sound sends a wave of warmth through me. His hand leaves my jaw and slips into the edge of my robe where his palm rests against the bare curve of my hip. He squeezes and my leg slides over his as the kiss deepens again. Only, there’s been a shift, and this one’s different. It lacks the caution and uncertainty from before.
Like we’ve both stopped questioning whether this is too much too soon.
His fingers drift slowly, tracing the line of my ribs before settling on my back, pulling me closer. His heart beats beneath my palm, and I feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.
