She opened her eyes and looked right at me. “I love you.”
I smiled, hearing those three words, ones I’d been waiting for her to say for years. Mine. My girl. My woman. I threw her leg over my shoulder and gave her what she’d been asking for, driving deeper, setting a pace that had her crying out into the dark. Her pussy clenched around me so tightly my vision blurred.
She came again, her nails leaving marks on my arms. I buried myself in her and followed, groaning her name into her neck.
Drea’s fingers traced up my spine as we lay there, like we were both memorizing this moment. “Better come back,” she murmured into my shoulder.
I pressed my lips to hers once. “Promise.”
After we cleaned up I walked her to the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and turned to me like there was more she wanted to say, then seemed to decide against it.
She settled for kissing me again.
“I love you, Carmelo.” She pulled back and looked at me, almost shyly—like the words were brand new even though we both knew they’d been there the whole time.
“Love you too, Dre.” I nodded towards the car. “Go home.”
I stood in the doorway and watched her walk to her car, get in, and sit there. Through the windshield, we just looked at each other.
A sliver of something that felt dangerously close to hope started working its way into my chest. If this played out right—when I got back, we could finally stop wasting time. We could actually be?—
23 /FONTAINE JACKSON
My eyes snappedopen at the buzzing of my phone. Nairobi was still asleep beside me, her breathing low and even, arm draped across my stomach like she’d claimed me in her sleep. I stared into the dark, trying to get my bearings.
Bzz. Bzz.
I blinked hard and reached for the phone, irritated because I could’ve sworn I’d put it on Do Not Disturb before I fell asleep.
Maybe: Saint Matthew’s Hospital, flashed across the screen with an unknown number.
Something in my gut twisted.
I answered on the next ring. “Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Fontaine Jackson?” It was a woman’s voice on the other end, professional and clipped enough to make me sit up.
“Yes.”
“I’m calling from Saint Matthew’s Hospital. You’re listed as an emergency contact for Andrea Jackson.”
My blood went cold.
“What happened?” My heart kicked up so fast it was hard to keep my voice steady.
“She was brought in with serious injuries from an explosion,” she said carefully. “She has some pretty serious burns, but is in stable condition.”
My mind went straight to Gunnar. “Her son—was there a child with her?”
“No. It was just her. Can you come in as soon as possible?”
“I’m on the way,” I said, already throwing the sheets off and grabbing my glasses.
Nairobi shifted beside me. “Babe?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.
“Give me a second,” I said as I stood.
I scrolled through my phone and my stomach tightened all over again seeing I had a bunch of missed calls.
