Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Kate
When I walk back into the living room, the table is cleared and Gage is sitting on the sofa.
I took longer than I wanted to in the bathroom.
I didn’t have to do anything other than to splash cold water on my face and catch my breath.
Hearing him say that being a parent is everything filled me with a rush of emotions.
I excused myself and headed straight for the bathroom.
I used the time in there to think about the past and what the future might look like.
“Come sit with me, Katie,” he says, turning to look at me.
He’s lowered the lighting in the room and soft music is streaming from a small speaker on the coffee table.
It’s the same mood he used to set before he’d bathe me.
Gage would draw me a candlelit bubble bath every Sunday after he cooked dinner for me. Sometimes he’d pour me a glass of wine or a tumbler filled with my favorite diet soda.
Every week he’d have a book of poetry in his hands as our favorite songs played from his phone.
He’d sit on the floor next to the claw foot tub while I soaked in the warm water.
The candle never cast enough light to read by so I knew that the poetry pouring from his lips came straight from his memory.
Yet, he’d flip through the pages, asking which poem I wanted to hear next.
After the bath, he’d dry me, take me to bed and fuck me until I couldn’t breathe.
We’d fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
I take a seat next to him, taking care to leave some distance between us.
His gaze falls to my legs. “Your scar has faded.”
I glance down at the jagged line on my skin. It’s difficult to see in the dim light, but I know exactly where it is. Gage does too.
“Time heals all wounds,” I quip, falling back on a piece of my mom’s sage advice.
His gaze trails up my body to my face. “Does it?”
A month ago I would have said it didn’t, but I can’t anymore, so I don’t. “I think it can.”
His hands run up and down his muscular thighs. “Has it healed your wounds? The wounds I caused?”
“I wish you would have told me,” I say quietly. “You should have told me about Kristin when you found out.”
“I should have,” he agrees with a nod of his chin. “I didn’t think it through. If I could turn back the clock, I would have told you everything that day.”
He can’t turn back time. I can’t either.
“I regretted it almost immediately,” he confesses, scrubbing his hand over his forehead. “I’ve regretted it every minute of every day since.”
“It’s the past now.” I sigh. “We can’t go back and rewrite history.”
His gaze scans my face. “You’re right.”
Our eyes lock and for the briefest moment I consider telling Gage a secret I’ve been carrying with me for years.
When we lived together, I was an open book. I told him everything knowing that he would accept all of my truths.
“Dance with me, Katie.” He holds out his hand as a Frank Sinatra tune fills the air. “You used to love this song.”
I slide my palm against his and let him pull me to my feet. “I still love this song.”
“I still love you,” he whispers so softly that I can barely make it out.
“Me too,” I want to say back, but I don’t.
He guides me to a small area next to the sofa. Taking me in his arms, he rests his hand on my back and tugs me close as we sway to the music and the very first song we ever danced to almost eight years ago.
I don’t stop him when his hand glides down my back. It lands just above my ass. I move closer to him, knowing that’s what he wants.
It’s what I want too.
I didn’t come here thinking that I’d sleep with my ex-fiancé, but it’s the only thing I can focus on right now.
We’ve danced to seven or eight songs. I lost count after the third. Most of them had a much higher tempo than the Sinatra song, but we haven’t stopped our slow dance.
He presses his cheek against mine. His voice comes out in a low growl. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Emotion wraps itself around my heart. It squeezes until a breathless sound comes out of me.
He inches back to look in my eyes. “Have I told you that you’re even more beautiful now?”
I shake my head. A smile that blooms from somewhere deep inside of me floats over my lips. “No.”
“You are.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “You’re breathtaking.”
He is too. The Gage who left five years ago was gorgeous with a mop of hair and a lean body, but now I’m looking at a striking, muscular, hot-as-hell man.
It could be confidence or maturity or maybe time has sculpted him into who he is today.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he growls. “You want that.”
He’s not asking, but I don’t care.
He knows I want to kiss him. He must know that I want more.
His lips meet mine in a slow, deep kiss.
Any hesitation I might have brought with me tonight melts under the brush of his tongue against mine and the taste of his breath.
He breaks the kiss. “I want you, Katie.”
I look into the same green eyes that I stared into when he broke through my virginity under a bite of pain. They are the eyes that held fast to mine when I had my first orgasm with him deep inside of me.
My home is in those eyes.
“I want you,” I whisper back before I press my lips to his again.