Page 186 of The Wright Man

Because I felt it. Every part of me wanted to say it back. But I couldn't—not yet. Not with the divorce looming like a storm cloud. Not with Gavin's betrayal still bleeding into the corners of my mind.

I wanted those words to feel clean when I gave them to Maleek. No shadows. No guilt.

Just us.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I confessed. "I just know it feels like I've been holding my breath for years, and now I can finally exhale. But if this were anyone else, I'd be like... girl, blink twice and drink some water. You are not well."

He chuckled, low and rough, and pressed a kiss to my temple.

"You're not anyone else. And we're not some rebound. You're my best friend. This has been building our whole lives."

I swallowed hard, blinking back the sting behind my eyes. "You sure you're not just saying all this 'forever and always' stuff 'cause I let you make me come three times?"

His brow lifted, slow and smug. "Let me?" he echoed, brushing his knuckles over my hip. "Angel, you begged for that third one. You lucky Bella showed up, you'd still be in here shaking."

I laughed, and he grinned—cocky, proud, pleased with himself like the menace he was.

My voice wobbled a little when I spoke again. "What if I'm not ready for everything? I mean, tonight happened and it felt... good. Right. But what if I need to slow down?"

"Then we slow down," he said simply, like it wasn't even a question. He reached up, tucked a curl behind my ear, fingers grazing my temple. "I'm not rushing you. Not now. Not ever. I've waited my whole life for you. I can wait as long as you need me to—just as long as we're moving forward. Together."

He was so steady. He always had been. My anchor. My peace. The only man who'd ever made me feel like I could completely unravel and still be safe.

He traced his knuckles along my jaw, thumb ghosting over my bottom lip.

"I let you go once," he said, voice low and rough. "I'm not doing that shit again. I got you through this divorce. Through whatever comes next. I'm not going anywhere."

That was the thing about Maleek—he never tried to fill the silence with promises he couldn't keep. He just was. Even when everything else in my life cracked and collapsed, he stayed the same. Solid ground in a world that never stopped shaking.

I wanted to say it... I love you.

I wanted to give him that piece of me. But I wanted the moment to be ours.

Uncluttered. Sacred.

So instead, I looked up at him and whispered, "You really out here giving rom-com monologues like you didn't spend the last twenty years silently beating the shit out of anybody who looked at me wrong."

He blinked once. Then gave me that slow, crooked smile that made my knees weak.

"See," he muttered, "this is why your ass can't have nice things."

He popped me on the ass—not hard, just enough to make me squeak—and then dragged me closer, kissing me slow and deep.

"Go to sleep," he murmured against my mouth. "Before you start talkin' shit again."

"I'm always talkin' shit."

"Exactly."

I settled against him, my hand drifting back to his heart, that steady beat grounding me all over again. And for the first time in years, I didn't dread what tomorrow might bring.

Because no matter how messy, how complicated, how fast it all felt—there was nothing reckless about falling into something that had always felt like home.

* * *

"Angelica. Day. Reed!"

Tina's voice cracked like a whip through the screen, yanking me out of my soft-focus daydream with my full government name and a hefty dose of attitude. I blinked hard, startled, my fork frozen halfway to my mouth.