Chapter 41
Monica
A s I lay in bed, my head on Troy’s chest, listening to the rise and fall of his breath, I couldn’t quite believe this was real. That he was here, in my apartment, after another bout of lovemaking. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was almost 3 p.m. It looked like we were both taking a personal day.
I lifted my head from his bare chest, inhaling his cologne and looked at him, propping myself up on my elbow. Troy opened his eyes sleepily and looked at mine before they grazed the edge of the sheet that was loosely wrapped around me.
“What are you thinking about?” I whispered.
He reached his hand over and grazed his fingertips across the thin material, making my nipples peak at his touch. My back arched at the sensation.
“I’m thinking about how much I missed this.” He pulled me closer to him, so my breasts lay bare against his tan chest.
“Haven’t you had enough?” I giggled.
“Never. It will never be enough,” he said.
I bit my lip on purpose.
“Especially when you do that.”
He nipped at my lips and I let out a squeal before kissing him. When I pulled away, he was looking at me intently.
“What is it?” I asked with a touch of nerves. He had never looked at me like that before.
His brows furrowed as he reached up and cupped my face. “I’m falling in love with you.”
I sucked in a breath. It wasn’t what I was expecting to hear, though I had admittedly hoped for those words to fall from his perfect mouth.
“I have been for a while. Maybe even since I first laid eyes on you at that bar. You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I remember exactly what you were wearing. That green sweater dress that hugged you like a damn glove. I remember how your hair was pulled back to reveal your beautiful face. Every man in that room couldn’t help but watch you as you walked past them. Not knowing you, I was irrationally jealous that they even had the chance to look at you. I didn’t know what came over me, but I had to have you.”
His words landed like rose petals against my ears. I couldn’t have written it any better if it were in one of my books.
“Are you sure you’re not the writer?” I asked. “Because…wow.”
He laughed softly as he pulled me in for another kiss. As I pulled away, I whispered, “I’m falling in love with you, too, Troy. You said you wanted to be the man I dreamed of. Like one from my books. But you already are all of that and more. My stories are never perfect. They’re messy and chaotic, like life, but there’s always love. And I love you.”
We stared at each other in a comfortable silence, soaking in each other’s words before he rolled on top of me and made love to me again. This time, softly and sweetly.
The sun was beginning to set as we lay in a tangled heap in my bed. It was so strange to have him here in my apartment. He had never been here, aside from when he came to find me after the disastrous gala with Veronica. I liked having him here. I thought I would feel embarrassed, which was why I had never invited him over in the past. A billionaire in Queens. What a juxtaposition. But he fit in my cozy apartment nicely. He fit in my life nicely. In me nicely.
My stomach grumbled slightly. I realized we had skipped lunch and were now approaching dinner as the pink hues from the sunset flowed through my small apartment windows, casting colorful squares on the hardwood.
Troy put his hand on my stomach. “Let’s eat something,” he said. “You wore me out.”
“ Me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry, I like it. And plan on more of it after dinner.”
I swallowed hard at the way his voice ran down my spine. Not only could I expect more of him ravaging me, but he was planning on staying. The thought made me smile.
I gave him a quick kiss before rolling out of the bed. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked naked to my closet. I slid on a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
“Only you could make sweats look sexy,” he said, his head propped up on his elbow.
“Down, boy.”
He laughed as he rolled out of the bed and started to put his clothes on. It was my turn to watch. When he was dressed, we walked out to the kitchen. I slid open the drawer with all my takeout menus and pulled myself up on the kitchen counter.
“What do you feel like?” I asked, displaying the menus like a hand of cards.
He laughed and studied each one. “Thai?” he asked, plucking a menu from my hands.
“Good choice.”
I dialed the number on the menu and placed an order for delivery for pad thai, coconut curry shrimp, lemon chicken, and steamed vegetables. When I hung up, Troy wrapped his arms around me.
“And I’ll have you for dessert,” he said.
I shook my head at him. “You are relentless.”
“I can’t help it.” He shrugged.
“I know the feeling.”
He lifted me off the counter and carried me to the couch. We had about forty-five minutes until the food arrived, so we opened a bottle of wine and turned on the TV. I sat with his arm around me as we sipped on white wine and laughed at whatever stupid show was on. It was some reality dating show that his ex-wife would be the perfect villain on. I almost said so, but didn’t want to bring her up.
As we laughed together on the couch, it felt like we had been dating for years. I was so comfortable with him, and things felt like they did back in the Bahamas. The Bahamas was when I really saw Troy for who he was, so unserious and charming. Before then, I was lost in the passionate sex and sneaking around. And then after that, things went downhill.
“I missed this,” I said, nuzzling into his shoulder.
“Me too,” he said.
There was a knock at the door. For once, I didn’t feel my stomach leap to my throat wondering who it was. I felt safe with Troy being here.
“I’ll get it,” he said, walking to the door. He paid the delivery guy and carried the bags over to the coffee table. I grabbed some plates from the kitchen and refilled our wine glasses. We served ourselves heaping portions and sat on the floor to eat.
Between bites, Troy said, “This is fucking incredible.”
I laughed. “It’s no fancy upper east side restaurant, but it does the trick.”
He looked thoughtful for a second before swallowing his food.
“Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he said.
“What isn’t?”
“The upper east side. The penthouse. The job. The money.”
I waited for him to continue, hoping he would.
“I never realized how unhappy I was until I met you, and then lost you.” Troy looked solemn for a moment. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s like I had been living this life that I thought was it for me. It’s the life that had always been set out for me, not by me, but my father. I never knew anything different. Never thought about doing anything else because my whole upbringing he talked about how I would be a part of the family business. I did what I thought was expected of me.
“But I never took the time to look at what else was out there. By the time I was in my late twenties, I was already a billionaire. I figured that was the life anyone would want. It would seem ridiculous to want something else.
“Then I met you, and you changed my life. You made me happy. Truly happy. You were the highlight of a job that I realized I hate. You showed me colors that I didn’t know existed in this black and white world I had found myself in. And when you left, I was a shell of myself and I realized I was pretty damn miserable.
“I should never have pushed you away after the Bahamas. I should never have let my father come between us. I was just so scared of losing everything I had ever known because he was threatening to take my company away if I messed up again. I wonder if it would be so bad, though. I don’t even know if I want the company. I’m still trying to figure it all out, but I know I want you.”
I reached up and put my hand to his face. His perfect face. He had finally opened up to me and I didn’t dare interrupt a thing he said because I was beginning to understand who he was. Why he acted the way he did sometimes.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” I said softly. “I kind of get where you were coming from. Not to the extent of being a billionaire’s son, but I get the pressure from parents.”
“You do?” he asked, surprised.
“Of course. You think it was my parents’ dream for their daughter to become a ‘raunchy’ writer?” I put my fingers in air quotations.
“That’s what they say?” he asked.
“Yes, among other things. We avoid talking about it when I go home, or else it just turns into an argument.”
“But you’re incredible. They should be proud of you. You have an entire shelf at Barnes and Noble.”
I shrugged.
“It’s a big deal, Monica,” he said, narrowing his gaze.
“That book that you so sweetly recited this morning has made me second-guessing myself…”
“Don’t,” he said sternly. “Don’t ever do that. You were born to write.”
I could see he was proud of me and it made my heart swell.
“Well, I just might again. Now that I have inspiration.” I leaned in and pecked him on the cheek.
“Were the reviews really that bad?” he asked warily.
“Yes, but there were other things. I had just gotten out of a relationship with a guy I knew wasn’t the one, but it still stung. And I had other things going on…”
“Like what?” he asked.
I hesitated before talking again.
“I had a stalker for a while. A dedicated fan, he called himself. It seemed harmless at first. The police hardly did anything about it, but then it got dangerous when he broke into my apartment.”
“Oh, my God.” Troy’s mouth dropped open.
“I wasn’t home,” I quickly reassured him. “He was finally arrested, but he’s out now. He’s been out for a little while.”
Troy reached out and stroked my hair gently. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s okay,” I said. “But that’s why I asked you about the flowers earlier. There were dead flowers left at my desk with a cryptic note reading, Your love life is dead .”
I shuddered just thinking about it.
“Jesus. Do you think it’s him?” he asked worriedly.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll increase security in the building. I’ll hire someone to watch over you, like a cop or a private hire. Whatever you need. I want to protect you.”
I shook my head. I knew he was worried about me, but I didn’t want to become paranoid again. I had spent too many months like that. Maybe the flowers were a mistake. A wrong delivery. I hadn’t heard or seen anything from my stalker in almost nine months.
“I just want you to stay the night,” I said.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled me close and kissed me softly. “Besides, you still owe me that dessert.”