Chapter Twenty-Five
Dani
Morning greeted me with a hard chest at my back and a warm bundle pressed to the curve of my stomach. Eyes still closed, I reached out and encountered soft fur. A purr rumbled to life, rolling its way up my torso.
“Morning, Baxter,” I mumbled.
The body behind me shifted, and soft lips pressed to the back of my neck. “Do I get a ‘good morning,’ too?”
I smiled, the low gravel of Jase’s sleep-heavy voice washing over me like warm honey. His erection pressed against my ass, and I nudged my hips backward just a little, his groan lifting the corners of my mouth higher.
“Certainly feels good,” I said.
He let out a low hum and brushed his hand down my side, his palm gliding over my thigh and back up to rest in the dip of my waist. “How’d you sleep?”
I let out a deep sigh. “So good.”
As soon as my head had hit the pillow—the pillow being Jase’s deliciously firm chest—I’d been out . Even now, my body was fully relaxed, my muscles loose and languid. More notably, my mind was quiet. The incessant chatter usually rattling off my to-do list the second I woke was blissfully silent, and the quickly mounting stress that accompanied it was absent as well.
Did everyone know the cure to anxiety was really good sex? If not, studies needed to be conducted and official research published because it felt goddamn groundbreaking to me.
He placed another kiss below my ear, then whispered, “Too bad Baxter’s here, or I’d show you exactly how glad I am to hear it.”
The memory of him above me, thrusting with a frantic pace as his pleasure hit its peak, had my body eager for more. “Why not show me anyway?”
He chuckled against my neck, the low sound raising tingles along my skin. “He’s far too innocent to witness that.”
Right on cue, Baxter curled tighter into a ball and covered his face with his paw. It didn’t deter the warmth blooming in my stomach as my feverish need from last night built again.
I arched, pushing my ass harder against Jase’s cock. “What about if we stay under the covers?”
Grabbing his hand, I slipped it beneath the sheet, guiding it between my thighs where I was already growing wet. He felt as much and growled, rocking his stiff length against me.
Before his fingers could explore deeper, his phone buzzed on the bedside table. He dropped his forehead to mine with a sigh. “Hold that thought.”
I followed him as he rolled away, propping myself on my elbow as he reached for his phone.
My gaze raked over his body, admiring the definition in his arms and chest as he lounged against the headboard. His stomach flexed, and I wanted to run my tongue along each and every groove, down to that V peeking out above the sheet, then lower to where his erection tented the covers. I’d banish Baxter to the living room myself if that was what it took to get my mouth around him again.
The image vanished as soon as I caught sight of his phone.
Mom.
I tensed, heart lurching in my throat. My mind flashed back to the steps of my building the night of Colin’s gallery. Her name on Jase’s screen. The way he’d avoided me after.
Baxter stood, arching in a stretch before hopping off the bed and strolling out of the room.
Maybe I should follow. Just walk into the living room and keep walking out the door, back to my own apartment, and pretend this never happened.
I didn’t know what Jase’s relationship with his parents was like, but I got the sense there was tension there. Maybe even tension with Alec. Tension that this— me —would likely only make worse.
Not for the first time, I wished Jase could be not Alec’s brother. Not anyone’s brother. That he could just be some guy I’d met who had no connections to my past and wouldn’t cause complications for either of us.
Maybe he wished that too. And if he decided the complications were too much, I’d get it.
It would hurt. But I would understand.
He silenced the phone and ran his hand through his sleep-mussed hair. The gesture tugged at something tender behind my ribs.
“She was probably calling about my travel plans for when I go home in a few weeks. For the, uh…” His eyes flicked to mine, then back to his phone. “The baby shower.”
Right .
Stephanie’s baby shower. That Alec would be at because Stephanie was his pregnant wife.
And Jase was his brother.
I should leave.
I should find my dress and go home, where I’d work from now on so Jase didn’t have to worry about avoiding me, and we’d only have to interact again at the symposium?—
“Hey.”
My attention snapped back to Jase as he tossed his phone aside.
He slid down beside me on the bed, his body warm against mine, and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “Not after last night.”
His eyes held mine, open and sincere, searching. Always searching. Seeing .
Screw it.
I kissed him. My mouth sought his like it belonged to me, and he let me have it, opening to me immediately as he pulled me against his chest. In one smooth motion, he rolled me onto my back, rising above me and blocking out the rest of the world.
Maybe it could be like Robin suggested, where we just enjoyed each other and moved on. No need for his family to ever find out.
Simple. Like we’d agreed.
His lips left mine, letting me catch my breath as he kissed his way down my throat, pausing to suck each breast before continuing lower. The sight of him between my legs was almost enough to make me come before his tongue even touched me. When it finally did, he had to hold my hips in place to keep them from bucking off the bed.
His mouth moved against me, tongue seeking, and my body twisted away to escape the mounting pleasure even as I ground against him for more.
It was too much. Too much and not enough. Too much and everything I needed all at once.
“Jase!” I cried out, covering my eyes with my hand.
He closed his lips over my clit and sucked as he slid two fingers inside me, drawing me to the edge of an excruciating fall.
That was the thing about keeping it simple—it only worked if no feelings were involved.
The problem was I had already started falling, and there was no stopping it now.
We fell into a routine.
I continued working from the restaurant, wanting more than ever to be close to Jase, to witness him in his element and be part of his world. The hate mail had died down enough that Geffery thought it was safe for me to return to the office, but Talia was happy with the progress I’d made and had no problem with me working remotely until the symposium. I planned to take advantage of every moment it allowed me to spend with Jase.
I craved him, not just with my body but also with my mind. With something else, too, that scared me too much to think about.
Because for every part of me that recognized how right this felt, being with him in this way, another part couldn’t help but feel like our time was running out. That feeling of being in a dream you never wanted to wake from but knowing in the back of your mind that your alarm would go off at any second.
I didn’t want to wake from this.
He cooked for me most days, breakfasts after nights spent together—usually at his place since he had Baxter to take care of and the better kitchen—and lunch, which he’d bring to me in Jillian’s office.
More nights than not, I ate dinner at the bar in what had become my regular seat nearest the kitchen. Despite Jase’s protests, I insisted on paying, though I did let him give me an employee discount. It was still more than I would have spent on meals out before, but with the amount I saved on groceries from his cooking for me, I figured it balanced out.
Robin joined me for either dinner or drinks at least once a week, usually on a night Neela worked, and it was on those nights especially that it struck me how different my life was from two months ago.
Two years ago.
Ten years ago.
That I had found a space for myself where I felt full with people who filled me up. That I was, for once, content to sit here in this moment instead of pushing and planning and rushing to the next. Even when an email came in the following Monday afternoon that should have had me scrambling.
“Did he say why?” I asked Talia over the phone. I was cross-legged on Jase’s couch, wearing one of his T-shirts with my laptop on his coffee table, said email filling the screen.
“Some sort of family emergency. He didn’t give details, but he was firm in his withdrawal.”
I blew out a breath. “Okay.” There really wasn’t much else to say. The main speaker for one of our symposium panels had just pulled out, and unless we replaced him, we’d have a huge hole in our schedule.
It was doable but not ideal. Especially since everyone on our list of backups was located on the other side of the country, and coordinating the logistics this close to the event had the potential to be a nightmare.
A month seemed like a lot of time, but it almost always took a week just to hear back on an initial inquiry, and most people needed time to work out their schedule before they could commit, which meant it would likely be a little over a week out from the symposium before we had a confirmed speaker to book travel for. Not to mention how the programs would need to be updated and printed at the last minute, along with a million other details that would need to be adjusted.
“I’ll make some calls,” Talia said. “See if anyone gets back to me quickly.”
“All right. I’ll hold off on emails until I hear from you. Let me know if anyone bites.”
“I’ll check in again later today. It’ll work out,” she assured me.
“Yeah.” I didn’t sound convinced. I guess I wasn’t. Not that we wouldn’t find someone, but whether we should.
Talia hung up, and I clicked over to a new tab in my browser and opened my social media accounts. Like the hate mail, the nasty comments and DMs had slowed way down, but I could still see the ones from before. I hadn’t bothered to delete them, instead choosing to ignore them altogether, rarely looking at my accounts.
I looked now, though, not entirely sure what I was looking for until I saw it. Not in every comment, but in enough.
“Everything okay?”
Over at the island, Jase was making us his version of grilled cheese—the kind that used sourdough bread and three different cheeses, and that he stuffed with various fruits or veggies and then drizzled with a balsamic glaze. His hair was still damp from his post-gym shower, and he hadn’t put on a shirt, leaving his lean muscles on display, a few of them flexing as he cut up a nectarine. I let my eyes take in the view.
“Not exactly,” I replied. “One of our panelists canceled.”
He brushed his hands off and rounded the island, a clean pair of gym shorts riding low on his hips. I didn’t even pretend not to stare.
He came to stop in front of the couch and held out his hand. “Come here.”
“What?” I asked, placing my hand in his.
He pulled me to my feet. “You look like you could use a dance.”
Just like that, I softened, the tension surrounding my thoughts loosening under the warmth of his gaze, that contentment I found so often lately seeping its way in. I looped my arms around his neck, and his hands rubbed slow circles against my spine as we swayed.
“You also don’t look as worried about this whole panelist situation as I would have guessed you’d be,” he said.
It was true. A lot of planning went into organizing all five panels—determining the right topics to have the greatest impact on moving the conversation forward, finding the right combination of experts for each one that would provide valuable perspectives and complement each other’s strengths. This sort of hiccup this late in was exactly the sort of thing that would normally spin me out.
Instead, I found myself wondering if this wasn’t an opportunity for something else. Maybe even something better.
“I…have this idea,” I admitted, still working through it in my head, the pieces coming together more solidly with each second.
His brows rose. “But…?”
I sighed, sinking a little more into his arms. “But it’d be a big change from our original plan. One that could create noise, and not all good. I’m not sure it’s worth mentioning to Talia.”
Except the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to. And our plans had already changed. Why not do something big with it?
“It’s worth it,” Jase said easily.
My eyes narrowed. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because you have the same look on your face that you did during your interview with Bill Sewick.” His mouth tilted up. “The one that says to get the fuck out of your way because you’re on a mission, and no one’s stopping you.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head like he was ridiculous, but also so I could catch up with the sudden rush of emotion surging through my chest. Because he was right. What coursed through me now was exactly what I had felt during that interview. The same boldness to speak up and be heard, to be unapologetic in my actions.
It had scared me then, how reckless it had felt. It was still unfamiliar to me now, and yet…I kind of liked it.
I peered up at him. “That’s really what you saw?”
He nodded. “Still do.”
The way he looked at me as he said it, the steadiness of his gaze, the tone of his voice—he said it like he meant it. Admired it, even.
Admired me .
I pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him deeply before sinking to my knees. Then I spent the rest of my lunch break showing him how much I admired him back.
“A virtual panel,” I said to Talia the following morning. We were in her office with my proposal laid out on her desk. “One that’s open to the public. We stream it live and accept questions from viewers in the chat for our experts to answer.”
Right now, the symposium was invite-only, intended as an opportunity to further the conversation around maternal health issues within the industry by those in positions to enact change. But too much of that change was being challenged from the outside by people who didn’t understand the full picture.
“It would certainly get a lot of attention,” Talia agreed, reviewing my notes.
My proposed topic was “Abortion as Healthcare: What It Is and Why It’s Crucial to Comprehensive Medical Care.” It was intended to grab attention, and no, not all of it would be good. But that was the point.
“This is a chance for us to address all the misinformation out there about abortion,” I said. “Challenge the stigma it’s been brandished with and get the truth out there about what it actually is and the specific circumstances it’s carried out under. This is so much broader and more complex an issue for healthcare as a whole than I think most people realize, and they should get to hear the perspective of the medical providers dealing with these situations every day.”
“Is your hope that this will minimize the amount of hate mail we get toward the clinic? Because I don’t see that happening. Most of the people who wrote those letters aren’t interested in being educated. They have their own version of the truth and won’t be swayed by another.”
I shook my head. “This isn’t about them. It’s about the people who are willing to listen. Who are seeking to understand better, or maybe don’t even realize what they’ve been told isn’t all there is to this.” I knew those people existed because I’d seen them in my social media comments, trying to ask questions but getting drowned out by all the enraged voices.
“I mean, half the stuff I know now I didn’t learn until I started working here,” I added. “This issue is so inflammatory that it’s hard to ask questions and get actual, reliable answers without one side of the internet or the other coming down on you. That’s what this panel is for. A safe place to have this discussion without judgment or preaching. We can monitor the chat and only pull legitimate questions for the panelists, keep the trolls and hate out of it. Focus only on answering questions from the medical perspective about this procedure and why it’s necessary for effective healthcare for people who can get pregnant.”
Talia’s arms were crossed, but she nodded along, looking more thoughtful than opposed. “We’d have to get the board’s approval. It’s an approach we’ve never taken before.”
No, we’d been tiptoeing around the issue because of how polarizing it was, hoping to avoid things like hate mail and death threats for as long as possible. That’s what I’d done during the interview. Tried to talk around the truth instead of coming right out and saying it. It hadn’t made a difference.
“It isn’t enough for us to brush this aside,” I said. “Not anymore. We need to stop acting like we’re doing something wrong that needs to be kept hidden. The best way we can do that is to not only join the conversation but lead it. No more hiding.”
She studied me for a long moment, one that previously would have had my insides folding in on themselves as I second-guessed my every word. On the other side of this silence was her approval or rejection. And up until now, I’d held that above all else. I’d never fully believed my ideas were good unless Talia agreed with them, needing that approval to validate my own judgment.
Not this time. Whether Talia and the board approved the virtual panel or not, I trusted the urging in my gut that said it was the right call.
Talia smirked. “You really believe in this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
She released the cross of her arms. “I do too. I’ll see how quickly I can get the board together. Keep prepping for this. Let’s be ready to pull the trigger as soon as we get their okay.”
I nodded and turned for the door.
“And, Dani?”
I glanced back to find her smiling.
“Good work.”
My chest swelled, pride surging through me at those two words in a way it never had before. Probably because this time, I believed them.