CHAPTER 74 – ANTONIO
The sharp ache in my chest has softened into something warm and heavy. I’m still in Caspian’s lap, but he’s not buried in me like he was two minutes ago.
His arm is curved securely around my back, and his fingers are slowly stroking my hair.
I feel light-headed and drowsy. He reaches for a water bottle and helps me take a sip.
I blink.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice low and soothing.
I nod and take another sip.
“That was intense,” I whisper.
“Was it too much?” He inspects my face carefully.
“It was perfect.”
“Are you sore?”
I shake my head.
“Good. What about your throat?”
I give him a smug smile.
“My throat doesn’t kiss and tell.”
He chuckles.
“Fair enough. Do you want a bath?”
I take a deep breath.
“Yes—and I also want to move in with you.”
Caspian exhales, and I try to read his expression.
I try not to panic.
“Not just because of the sex,” I add hastily.
He smiles like this isn’t a surprise at all.
He kisses my forehead, nose, jaw, and finally, my lips.
“Living with you would make me very happy.”
I frown.
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to move in. I want us to live together.”
I poke his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous! You need to think this through.”
He laughs softly.
“Trust me, baby, I have thought this through.”
My stomach flips. He sounds so certain.
“What does that mean?”
He studies me carefully.
“I’d rather talk about this after we’ve eaten. Planning our future goes more smoothly when your blood sugar isn’t low.”
I kiss his jaw. He’s so invested in keeping my blood sugar stable.
“I’ll run the bath for you and take a quick shower.”
I tense, and he notices. He always notices.
“It won’t take long. Could you make us omelets?”
I perk up. I love cooking for him.
After the omelets, I’m soaking in bubbles and pure contentment.
I’m also snorting like an obnoxious sea otter, teasing Caspian about his obsession with me.
I mean—the man started planning a kitchen makeover after the second time he saw me.
“I hissed at you,” I say, wiggling my toes happily, “and you wanted to build me a kitchen.”
“Your hissing made an impression.”
“I hope you realize we need a bigger bookshelf.”
“J?rgen can build us one.”
“In the living room?”
“Anywhere you want.”
I nod. I want it in the living room.
“I have a book that opens up like a medieval castle,” I tell him. “It takes up a lot of space.”
“I’m sure J?rgen can factor it in.”
“Where will all my clothes go?”
“In the closet,” he says mildly. “Where half of them already are.”
“My Funko Pops matter to me.”
Caspian looks at me adoringly.
“I didn’t know you had Funko Pops.”
“I talk about them all the time!”
“Name one occasion when you’ve mentioned a Funko Pop.”
I splash water on him.
“I haven’t necessarily talked about them out loud,” I say huffily.
“That explains it.”
A thought occurs to me.
“Would you tattoo my name on your forehead?”
“I would not.”
“I thought you were sure about us. You’re sending me mixed signals, Caspian.”
“You’d hate the tattoo.”
“I would, but that’s not the point. The point is commitment.”
He looks at me.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I know you’re committed.”
“Good.”
I blush. The way he says “good” is like catnip to me.
“If you really needed me to, I’d tattoo your name over my heart,” he says matter-of-factly.
My jaw drops.
“I’d tattoo your name on my chest without blinking if that’s what it takes to make you feel safe,” he says.
My breath catches. He means that.
Caspian would tattoo my name on his chest without blinking.
I swallow.
“I don’t need you to do that.”
“I know.”
Something more serious crosses my mind next.
“Caspian?”
“Yes, sweetie.”
I notice that my hands are trembling slightly.
“I want to move in no matter what,” I whisper. “Even if Ryan moved here. I don’t want him to decide what we do.”
“That is so brave. I’m so proud of you, baby. I also want us to live together no matter what.”
“Do you think he’ll do it?”
Caspian falls silent.
“You can probably answer it best yourself. I think that given the chance, he would.”
I agree. It would be awful. I’d survive it, but it would still be a nightmare.
“But I’m also sure that Baywood won’t give him that chance,” he adds.
“Can we measure the wall next—for the bookshelf?”
I climb out of the bath, dripping, determined, and maybe slightly less dramatic than I was in the afternoon.
Caspian nods, wrapping me in a towel like I’m his most cherished special edition.
He kisses me, then I kiss him, and we go back and forth.
It takes a while before we get downstairs.
“A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf with a ladder rail would make me so happy,” I say.
I’m half-joking.
But from the way Caspian’s eyes light up, I have a feeling that’s exactly what I’m going to get.