Chapter 29 Emma
EMMA
The past week has been a blur of late-night whispers and the unfamiliar comfort of waking up next to Alex.
He’s been at my house every night, making sure I eat, keeping an eye on me at all hours of the day.
It should annoy me, maybe a part of me wishes it did, but it’s been kind of nice. I know it can’t last forever.
Eventually, we’re going to have to figure out what this is, but I still don’t know if I’m ready for that.
Alex pulls up in front of the bakery, the scent of sugar and butter already teasing my senses through the truck window. He shifts in his seat, glancing over at me. “You sure you don’t want me to come in?”
I roll my eyes. “What, to protect me from the terrifying force that is Liv and Sophia? I think I’ll survive.”
I grab my bag and open the door, but before I can get out, Alex tugs me back, fingers gripping gently around my wrist. “Text or call me if you need anything.”
I press a dramatic hand to my chest. “Wow, what did I do to deserve this VIP treatment?”
His smirk softens as he gives me a slow but deep kiss. “You taste so good.”
I mumble something about how he’s turning into a sap, as my cheeks flush a darker shade of pink. I hop out of the truck before Alex can stop me. He watches until I enter the bakery before pulling away. The bell above the door chimes as I step inside and Liv’s voice immediately cuts through the air.
“Okay, no. Absolutely not. You do not get to disappear for a whole damn week and waltz in here lookin’ like—” she gestures at me dramatically, “like a woman who has been thoroughly occupied.”
Sophia snorts behind the counter, wiping both hands on her apron. “She’s glowing. It’s actually kind of disgusting.”
I sigh, setting my bag down on a stool. “Good morning to you, too.”
Liv narrows her eyes. “Explain.”
“Explain what?”
Sophia places a white plate with a croissant in front of me, giving an amused look.
“You know what.”
I take a slow bite just to mess with them. “Fine. You want the truth?”
Liv crosses her arms. “Yes.”
I shrug. “Alex has been staying at my place. It’s… nice.”
Their eyes widen in unison.
Liv is the first to recover. “Okay, first of all, what?” She turns to Sophia. “Did I miss the part where she and Alex went from enemies to a full blown couple?”
Soph shakes her head, equally as stunned. “I feel like we skipped several chapters, for sure.”
I sign, leaning against the counter. “It kind of just… happened.”
Liv leans in, eyes narrowing suspiciously at me. “How did he handle the transplant thing?”
I hesitate for a second, then tell them everything: how I told him, how he was upset I hadn’t said anything sooner, and how Cam found out about us.
Liv groans, rubbing her temples. “Oh my god. How bad was it?”
I wince. “Screaming. Threats. Something about ending Alex if he hurts me. With Cam, I expected nothing less.”
Sophia whistles. “Damn.”
I nod. “But Alex held his ground. He’s still alive.” I pause, picking at the flakey edges of the croissant. “For now, at least.”
Liv studies me for a second before nudging my arm. “Don’t get in your head about it.”
I exhale, then shake it off, changing the subject. “Are you guys coming to my birthday and Thanksgiving dinner at the restaurant tomorrow?”
Frankie and I were born on November 28th, almost twenty-nine years ago. This year, it just so happens to fall on the same day as Thanksgiving.
Sophia claps her hands together. “Absolutely. I’m bringing pumpkin pie.”
Liv grins, “Wouldn’t miss it.”
I smile, as a little smidge of normalcy blooms in my chest.
I’m halfway through eating a second croissant when the bakery door swings open, and in walks Alex. His presence fills the space like he owns it.
Liv leans closer, whispering, “Your guard dog is here.”
Sophia grins. “More like a guard grizzly bear.”
I roll my eyes as Alex strides over to me, nodding at the girls before his eyes settle on me. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the door.
I arch my brow. “Where?”
His lips twitch. “It’s a surprise.”
Liv fake gasps. “Mysterious. I like it.”
Sophia wiggles her brows at me. “I think he’s kidnapping you. Blink twice if you need help.”
Alex sighs, exasperated but slightly amused. “I swear, you surround yourself with menaces.”
“Obviously.” I deadpan, grabbing my bag.
As I turn to leave, Liv shouts, “Use protection!”
Alex doesn’t miss a beat. “You too!”
I snort as the bakery door closes behind us, his hand instinctively finding the small of my back as we walk to the truck. The drive is short, maybe five minutes, before we pull up to a small blue house behind the bar I’ve never been to before.
“Wait,” I say, turning to look at him. “Is this your place?”
He smirks. “You’ve been asking to see it.”
“I have.” I confirm, throwing my door open before he can come around to help me. “I didn’t believe it actually existed. Thought maybe you lived in a cave somewhere, just brooding around all day.”
Alex rolls his eyes and follows me up the porch steps, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “After you.”
I step inside, bracing myself for a chaotic disaster zone, but to my slight disappointment it’s not. Not even a little bit.
The space is clean and organized. Warm wood tones, dark leather, shelves filled with books and random knick-knacks. It actually feels lived in.
I turn to him, arms crossed. “Okay. What the hell?”
He chuckles. “What?”
“You’re… clean?”
His brows lift. “Wow. Thanks.”
“I just assumed you'd be one of those guys who has like… beer cans on every surface and socks stuffed in the couch cushions.”
Alex scoffs. “That’s actually disgusting.”
“I know,” I say, grinning. “Proud of you.”
He shakes his head and starts leading me through the house. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
We move through the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the spare room that he apparently uses as a makeshift office.
For what? I’m not sure, considering I can’t come up with any reason why a bartender would need an office in his home.
But the man is sophisticated. My house looks like a dump compared to this.
When we get to his bedroom, I stop in my tracks.
Above his bed, hanging in the center of the wall, is a painting.
My painting.
My stomach flips. I remember this piece. I painted it years ago. It’s a moody, abstract cityscape with streaks of gold running through the dark skyline. It was one of my favorites, and it sold at a gallery show in Manhattan. I never found out who bought it.
I turn slowly towards him as my pulse increases. “How did you get this?”
Alex rubbing the back of his neck. He’s stalling.
“I bought it.”
I blink. “You bought it?”
His lips press together, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks… shy. “Yeah. At one of your shows in New York.”
I stare at him, my brain short-circuiting. “But… I thought you didn’t—” I swallow. “I didn’t think you knew about my shows or anything like that.”
His jaw tightens, but his eyes are soft. “I kept up with you, Em.”
My breath catches.
He exhales, looking too nervous to continue, but does anyway.
“I read the articles. Followed your work online. Saw your name in the news whenever your art made waves. I was at that show when I bought it. I went to see you, to try and get you to talk to me. But when I saw you from a distance across the gallery, you looked so happy. You were in your element and I couldn’t ruin that.
I didn’t think you wanted to see me so I just bought the painting and left. ”
I feel winded. As if someone reached into my chest and pulled the air right out of my lungs. I look at the painting, then back at him. I step towards him with a smile.“So, what you’re saying is… you’re a softie?”
That makes him huff out a laugh. “Don’t start.”
I smirk, closing the distance between us and poke him in the chest. “Oh, but I must. Alexander Noel Cruz, secretly sentimental, a collector of my art…”
He catches my hand, his grip is warm and grounding. “Don’t make me regret showing you this.”
“A big tough guy like you secretly pining for me? Keeping tabs on me while I was off living my life? That’s adorable, Alex. Really.”
His hands find my waist, fingers pressing in just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Adorable? I don’t do adorable, Princess.”
“Mmm, sure you don’t,” I tease, tilting my head up to kiss him. It starts as slow, soft, teasing. My lips brush against his, barely there, but enough to make him chase me for more.
Alex groans a breath against my mouth, deep and low. The sound alone makes my body heat. His hands tighten on my waist as he pulls me flush against him. I want to be wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the solid strength of his body forever.
I slide my hands down his chest, tracing every defined muscle under my fingertips. Then lower, over his abs, slowly over every individual one. Once I reach the waistband of his jeans, my fingers dip inside enough to feel his cock hard and ready for me.
Alex swears under his breath, forehead pressing against mine as his eyes find mine. “You keep teasing me, and I swear to God, Em.”
A devilish grin appears as I ask, “What? You’ll throw me on the bed?”
“Damn right I will.”
Before he can do just that, I push him backwards onto the bed. He falls back with a surprised grunt. Standing in front of him, I slowly start to peel my clothes off, letting each piece drop to the floor, his eyes dark with hunger and greed.
“Princess.” He is full to the brim with impatience.
I kneel in front of him, placing my hands on both thighs, loving the way his muscles tense under my touch. “What’s wrong, tough guy? I thought you liked taking your time?”
His jaw clenches. “Not tonight. I need your pretty pussy around my cock. Now.”
His breath is ragged, and I am proud to see he’s barely holding himself together. I press my lips gently just above his waistband, kissing along the elastic once, twice, three times. His entire body shudders. I feel powerful and unbreakable knowing I can unravel him like this.
I trail my tongue across the skin there, feeling him tense as I leave soft bites in my wake.
“Emiliana,” he grits out, reaching for me, his hands desperate as his control slips.
I look up at him, dragging my nails lightly up his stomach. “So impatient.”
His jaw ticks and fingers flex as he resists the urge to grab me, flip me onto this bed and take what he wants.
But I kind of want him to.
I keep my eyes locked on him as I slide my hands down, unzipping his jeans at an agonizingly slow pace. His head tilts back against the mattress as I continue my torturous exploration, pressing kisses lower and lower as I go, tasting every inch of him.
There’s something electric in the air between us. It’s more than hunger. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. And when I look into his eyes, there is a sense of longing there, like I’m something he can’t lose.
I realize I feel the exact same way about him.