I’m not flinching or telling him to put me down. I’m just… happy in his arms.
My chest aches in a way that has nothing to do with the workout or the sex. I’ve stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.
With Bronx.
When our eyes meet, his expression is unreadable. He sets me down by the shower cubicle and brushes a strand off my cheek with his thumb.
“I think we moved past the whole hate thing,” he says.
I swallow. My heart’s hammering louder than it did when he was inside me.
“Guess so,” I whisper.
He nods once, as if that’s all he needed to hear.
Then he undresses and turns on the hot water, expecting me to strip off and join him.
And the fact that I do sends a ripple of panic through me.
I’m not just used to him.
I’m falling. Hard.
And I don’t think I want to stop.
26
BRONX
This conversation with Connor is gonna get fucking ugly, and I need to do it when Tierney’s not around. She’s too protective for her own good, and she’ll battle me to the death even with the proof I have.
So after lunch, I wait for her to work on some project with Livvie. Then I slip out of the penthouse and take the elevator down to Connor’s floor.
The way she looked at me in the shower this morning keeps looping through my mind. Not the heat, not the desire - I’m used to that. It was the trust.
Complete, unguarded trust as she let me wash her hair, as she leaned into me like I was her comfort instead of the enemy.
For the first time since I’ve known her, she wasn’t fighting me or herself. She was just...there. With me. In the gym, watching me work the heavy bag with that soft smile she thought I couldn’t see.
The way she followed me to the pull-up bar, pretending it was competition when really it was connection.
I scrub a hand down the front of my face.
Now I’m about to blow up her world.
Connor opens the door on the second knock, surprised to see me.
“Bronx? Everything okay?”
“We need to talk.”
“Sure.” He steps aside to let me in then peers into the hallway behind me. “Is Tierney with you?”
“No. She doesn’t know I’m here.”
Something flickers in his expression at that. Wariness. Like he knows this isn’t a social visit.
“What’s up?”
