It’s the strangest and most wonderful feeling happening inside my chest.
And terrifying.
The two of them are a family and don’t belong to me.I can’t push myself into their world and then disappear.I know how this works.
That doesn’t mean I don’t want them, because apparently I fucking do.
Just not...permanently.
I can’t.
I’ve had enough loss in my life.
Watching Mason, Seb and Colt fall in love, I hope like hell it works out for them.Privately, I worry.Things can change on a dime.
Death can visit.
Jack and my mom were both taken from me within a few years.Loss is a hard thing to heal from.It makes you protect your heart, not want to be hurt again, and then when you learn one of them was murdered by the woman he thought loved him, well, that fucks you up.
Like Zander, I’ve decided romantic love is not for me.
Lying to Gemma isn’t on the cards.I’ve spent most of the day wondering how I can sell the idea of us staying involved without...being involved.
Fuck.
Am I the one in denial?
I want to ask Gemma if I can take them to the zoo.I want to walk around holding her hand, buy Zoe plush toys, pretend we see robots and tease her mom.
I want to curl up on her sofa and watch a movie, bring them to mine and watch Zoe splash about in the hot tub.
Because what else would I be doing?Watching the stock market, as I usually did, over a lazy brunch on my balcony overlooking Central Park.
I have no right to want these things, and yet here I am sipping my coffee, ignoring my employees yack about business crap, and all I’m doing is thinking about them.
Goddamn it.
––––––––
AT SEVEN, I swing pastGemma’s and pick her up.She lets me pick her up at the door, which is a small miracle.
As Jeeves drives us a few blocks to Zander’s, I slide my hand over her silky thigh, wishing we had more time alone.
Gemma has a sexy black dress on, which is hot as hell short, and I’m glad she’s not out on her own.The cowl neckline teases her perfect cleavage and would look perfect with her diamond necklace.
Her.
“Was Zoe okay?No issues after I left?”
“She’s grounded.”Gemma shoots me with an unimpressed look.
“Why?”
And how does one ground a three-year-old when they can’t go anywhere on their own?
I keep my questions to myself.
“She put a bunch of toys into her toilet and said we need to callDwoo the Plumber.While I feel guilty, I couldn’t let her get away with it.”
