Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Waking up to Bella’s body pressed to mine, her cheek resting on my chest, was magical. I’d spent the night with women before. It wasn’t as if I kicked them out of bed before going to sleep. I wasn’t that guy.
This experience was totally different, however.
Sure, we’d had mind-boggling sex together—multiple times—and I would never be the same again.
But that wasn’t why this moment was so magical.
No, it was because it was her… and me… and her.
I might have been a foot taller and initially worried that I would hurt her because she was so tiny—something she reassured me wasn’t going to happen when she climbed on top and rocked my world—but it wasn’t the sex fueling me. It was this closeness.
I could have spent the rest of my life in this moment and died a happy man. She felt right against me. We fit despite the mismatch in our heights. She got me. More importantly, for the first time ever, I got her.
I wanted to hear every thought, witness every emotion, and feel every feeling. This was right.
Even though my bladder was screaming for reprieve, I stayed still so as not to wake her.
I gently combed my fingers through her hair, liking the way it splayed across my chest. She looked like an angel in sleep.
A tiny, petite angel. Who knew this angel would have a dirty mouth?
She had last night, something I wanted to witness again.
When she murmured, I looked down at her.
My bladder was in emergency territory, but I was desperate to be the first thing she saw when she opened those incredible eyes.
Slowly, her long lashes fluttered, and I held my breath as she greeted the day.
She seemed confused at first—she was a heavy sleeper, so that was hardly surprising—but she smiled when she looked up and caught me staring at her.
“Good morning.” Her voice was raspy.
“Good morning.” I did what I had to do and gave her a quick, hard kiss on the mouth.
“Don’t you even think about moving,” I ordered.
“I have to go to the bathroom—we’re in embarrass myself territory—but I’m not done doing this.
” I shifted her off of me as quickly as I could without jarring her then raced naked to the bathroom.
She laughed as she watched me go, and there was that beautiful sound again.
Once that business was finished, I splashed water on my face and hair and brushed my teeth. When I opened the door, I found Bella wearing my polo shirt from the night before and standing on the other side of the door.
“Took you long enough,” she teased.
“Wait.” I rested a hand on her shoulder, suddenly terrified. “You’re not… I…” How was I supposed to explain what I wanted here? I’d never had to do anything like this before.
“I’m not done cuddling,” she assured me.
Cuddling? I never considered myself a cuddler, and yet… “What are you doing?” I wasn’t ready to lose her to the bathroom.
“What did you do?” she asked pointedly.
“Oh.” Of course she had to go to the bathroom. What was wrong with me? I shifted to get out of her way but stopped myself. “Don’t brush your hair.”
She looked surprised by the order. “Why?”
“Because I’m not done with it.”
Her expression told me that was a weird thing to say. I didn’t care.
“Okay,” she said, laughing. “I started coffee. Why don’t you bring two mugs of it to bed for us. I’ll be with you in five.”
I couldn’t see anything—my shirt dwarfed her—but I watched her disappear behind the door anyway. How had such a little thing filled up such a big place in my heart? I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing anything until now.
This feeling was just so odd.
To make sure I didn’t stand outside the bathroom like a stalker—I would have if it wasn’t creepy—I went to the kitchen and filled two mugs with coffee. I added the flavorful creamer Bella had bought to both then took them to the bed.
When the bathroom door opened, I held my breath and waited for the blast of happiness I knew was coming. Sure enough, when she appeared, everything was right in my world. How is this so right?
I didn’t realize I’d asked the question out loud until she cocked an eyebrow while padding to the bed. “You mean us?” Her smile was curious.
“Actually, I was talking about what I feel when I look at you.” I put the coffees on the nightstand then lifted the covers. “Come here.” My voice was husky and commanding, but she didn’t seem to care.
She rolled under the covers and waited for me to get comfortable. That included pulling her to my side and holding her tight.
“I didn’t know I was missing anything in my life until you,” I admitted, opting for honesty. This was not going to work—we were two people with a lot of baggage—unless we were honest. “Now I’m afraid I’m totally going to screw this up.”
She didn’t laugh. “I know. It’s messy.”
“So messy.”
“What do you want?” Fear lurked in her eyes.
There was no hesitation when I answered. “You.”
“What else?”
“Do you come with add-ons or something?”
She blew out a breath then giggled, relaxing against me. This was what I wanted. Just this. If we had enough food, we could stay in this bed for the rest of our lives, and I would be perfectly happy.
“I just mean… you don’t do girlfriends.” She seemed to be thinking hard. “You told me that from the beginning. I can’t do just hookups, though. I’m just not built that way.”
“Bella, no.” I vehemently shook my head before she could lose herself in a spiral. “You’re right that I didn’t do girlfriends. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that myself. The reason is because I didn’t feel this.” I gestured between us.
“You’re saying I’m different?” There was a leeriness in her eyes that I didn’t like. I had no doubt that Preston had said similar things to her, and those had turned out to be lies. I had to be careful here.
“I’m saying I wasn’t expecting this to happen, and it’s new to me.” I searched for the right words. “I want to be with you. I’m not sure I’m going to be good at this, though. I’m an idiot sometimes, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.” She laughed at my frown then sighed. “Have you ever had a real girlfriend?”
“Maybe in high school.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t count.” She shook her head. “Why do you suddenly think you want a girlfriend?” She was approaching it like a scientific experiment.
“I didn’t wake up one morning wanting a girlfriend,” I replied. “I woke up wanting you.”
She looked taken aback. “What if it’s just lust, and now that you’ve had me, you won’t want me any longer?”
She needed reassurance. Preston had yanked the rug out from under her multiple times. I would not do that to her. The problem was that I couldn’t promise forever when we were barely into it either.
“I’ve already tasted the forbidden fruit, and I can tell you, unequivocally, that I still want you.”
“Will that be true in two weeks?”
I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be true forever, but now was not the time to drop that bomb on her.
“Bella, you’re consuming me. That has never happened before. I don’t know what I can promise for the future though. It’s too soon.”
“Of course it’s too soon.” She was rueful. “It’s way too soon. If you’d promised me the future, I would have been convinced you were a psychopath.”
It was good to know that my instincts were still intact. Her matter-of-fact response made me laugh, though. “Good to know.”
“I just… we’re both messed up.” She was earnest as she stared into my eyes. “You and I, we both have issues. You’re allergic to commitment—”
“Or I just never met the right person to commit to.”
“That was a lot of misses. I’ve read the message board stories about you.”
“Yeah, where are these message board stories? I’m calling slander.”
“Not slander.” She shook her head and gave me a severe look. “It’s a private section of an author message board that’s only for women. You know, in case there’s a predator author that anybody has to worry about. That way the info is out there but not in a way that can get anybody sued.”
I hated—absolutely loathed—that women needed to have spaces like what she was describing. What I hated even more was that I was a topic of discussion in one of those spaces. “What did they say about me?” I was resigned to my fate.
“Honestly? People said you were a good guy with a charm streak a mile wide. They said you weren’t going to do a relationship for anything but you were upfront about it and respectful.
They just suggested that anybody with attachment issues steer clear of you.
The stuff they wrote about you was nothing compared to what they wrote about… ”
“Who?” I demanded.
She looked conflicted. “Um…”
“Who?” I repeated.
She blew out a sigh. “RG James.”
I knew the name. I’d met him at various conferences. I thought back on our interactions, what I knew about him, and frowned. “How come I haven’t heard any of these stories?”
“Are you sure you haven’t? Every female writer I know on the conference circuit is well aware. His reputation is far flung. When he was caught trying to sexually assault his own assistant on the beach in Miami, he blamed it on low blood sugar.”
“Oh, so diabetes makes men predators?” I wanted to find this guy and throttle him. Something occurred to me, though, and I managed to hold my temper. Just barely. “Bella, did he ever do something to you?” The mere thought filled me with rage.
“No.” She vehemently shook her head. “I never went near him, but that’s because there’s a whisper network.
The women share the information among themselves first. Then, eventually, they allow trusted men into the circle.
After that, they try to get the untrustworthy men on their side. That doesn’t always go as planned.”
It made me angry on behalf of all the female authors. The mere thought that I’d added to their burden filled me with shame. “I’m an asshole,” I realized.