Chapter 38 The Conservatory #3
He chuckles, and I kiss that happy mouth once more before climbing off his bed and padding to the bathroom.
“Did you notice how my whole body can fit on this bed?” he calls. “Sometimes bigger is better,” he teases.
I step into his bathroom and look back at the gorgeous naked man. “The Troll will be thrilled to hear that.” The muscles in his face go slack, and I cackle before closing the door.
I quickly do my business and wash my hands before searching for a cup so I can give him some water.
I open the medicine cabinet and no dice—but my focus snags on the one orange bottle.
Nestled right on the middle shelf, between a few over-the-counter pain relievers, is a prescription for Adderall extended release.
Bottle in hand, I read the label. Take one capsule by mouth in the morning for increasing attention and decreasing impulsivity.
It was filled four weeks ago.
Has he always taken this? I mean, it makes sense that he would. I could tell he had ADHD back when he was my student.
I open the door. “Jonah,” I say, and show him the bottle. “How long have you been taking this?”
He tosses an arm behind his head. “I just started back up. I’ve had a script for that since I was kid, but I was so bad at remembering to take it.”
I sit next to him. “And how are you doing now?”
“Really good. It helps that I have a fairly routine morning, thanks to the animals. That’s why I keep it in my bathroom so I remember to take it when I get up. Also, Angie hooked me up with an ADHD coach and they’re in total support of the habits I’ve created.”
My heart swells with love for this man because he just..
. took care of it. He once again found an area of his life he wanted to improve, and he made it happen.
“That’s amazing, baby. I’m proud of you for sticking to it.
Now that I think about it... you have seemed more focused these last few weeks. ”
He smiles. “Yeah?”
I nod and kiss his forehead and the wonderful brain behind it. “Good job.”
Relaxed and swimming in his endorphins, he waits for me to return from the kitchen with water and snacks. King has seized his opportunity and landed himself a spot at Jonah’s feet.
He declines my offer to fetch him clothes, but shows me to his walk-in closet where I can find something warm. He pulls a pair of old rugby sweats from a low shelf and reveals a large, elegant black gift box.
“What’s in here?” I ask, but I’m already opening it.
“Oh, sh– um... well...” Dark green lingerie lays neatly folded under crisp tissue paper. I look up at him with a furrowed brow and he pulls at the back of his neck. “So I bought that for you a while ago.”
I’m relieved it’s for me, but still confused.
“I bought that for you after we went dress shopping. I got your measurements from that boutique.”
“It’s beautiful. Why are you acting weird?”
“Because when I bought it, it was with the intention that you’d wear it for me”—he lowers his head—“after my brother’s wedding.”
Ohhh. “You... thought I was going to sleep with you.”
He nods but doesn’t look at me. “I’m sorry. It was before I knew I wanted... so much more with you. Before I realized what kind of man I needed to be for you.”
Be still my beating heart.
Under certain circumstances, I would consider sexually punishing him for such a thing, but that’s not what my heart wants.
“Baby,” I coo, pulling all six feet three inches into me and petting his tousled, golden hair. “It’s okay. You don’t need to feel sorry about that. Not anymore.”
“But I am. It wasn’t fair, and I lied to you when I said I wasn’t expecting anything in return for being my date. I–I mean, I wasn’t expecting—”
“Come on,” I interrupt, and guide him out of the closet. “Let’s lie down.”
Once we’re under the covers and face-to-face, he continues. “I wasn’t expecting you to have sex with me. I was just really hoping and very confident that I... could change your mind.”
“I was kind of expecting you to try.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You were?”
I snort. “Wasn’t gonna work, but I was ready for it.”
“It was dumb,” he sighs.
I place my hand on his neck and glide my thumb across his warm skin. “It was, but you’re not. What matters now is the journey we took to get here,” I say, with a kiss to his pout. “I love you very much, Jonah. And I love that lingerie. And someday soon, I’ll happily wear it for you.”
“I love you too.” There’s a hint of a smile, but his downturn mouth persists, causing a pang of heartache to spread in my chest.
I lift his chin and force him to meet my eyes. “What’s going on?”
Long blond lashes fan over his cheeks and he swallows.
“Tell me the truth, Jonah.” I wait for his answer, and my stomach churns as a feeling of detachment claws its way up my throat.
“I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You never have.”
“I know, and look where it’s gotten me—in your arms and in your heart. I don’t wanna risk this.”
“Baby, you’re scaring me. Please, just tell me what’s wrong? I promise, we can work through it together.”
“You trust me, right?”
“Of course I do.”
When his haunting eyes finally meet mine, I stop breathing. “Then why haven’t you invited me inside your home yet?”
My pulse won’t slow, even though his body is warm against mine. The question hangs between us, heavier than it should be, sharp in a way I thought it might be.
Why haven’t I invited him in? Almost a month together, six months of circling each other like something fragile and precious, and I’ve still kept that door shut.
I tell myself it was caution, habit, survival—but lying here now, with distance pressing into my chest, I know it’s fear wearing a better name.
Letting him cross that threshold means trusting him with the one place my past still owns. But I’m tired of shutting myself in.
Moreover, I’m tired of shutting him out.
If I want him to stay, then I have to do the thing that scares me most and open the door I’ve been guarding for years.
“I do trust you. I trust you with my heart, and I trust you with my daughters. There’s no reason I should keep you out of my home any longer.
” I press my forehead to his. “I’m so sorry I made you wait this long.
I’m sorry I hurt you and made you doubt just how much I trust you.
First thing tomorrow, we’re having breakfast at my place. ”
He rears back, eyes blown wide with pure delight. “Really?”
“The girls pre-made cinnamon rolls for tomorrow.”
He bites his bottom lip and groans as his eyes roll back. And it’s such a quintessential Jonah expression, it’s impossible not to find joy in it. My heart flutters when his sunshine returns, and with faith renewed, I seal my promise on his lips.
“Thank you, Renée.”
The muscles in his neck work beneath my palm, and a lovely idea comes to mind—one that I think would show him beyond the shadow of a doubt how serious I am about us.
“How would you feel about a collar?”
“It’s a little formal for bedtime, don’t you think?”
I smile. “No, like a submissive’s collar.”
“Oh, like a kink thing. Sure, why not? I am your dog afterall,” he says with a smirk.
“Well, there’s more to it than that. When a dominant collars their submissive, it’s a symbol of commitment, ownership, and trust. It signifies they’re in a serious relationship.”
Jonah’s O-shaped mouth morphs into a wide smile, like the idea has been drilled in and there’s no way to pull it out now.
Good—because he’s mine.
“You wanna collar me, Professor?”
“I do.”