Chapter 29
Kade
After Liv’s nightmare and everything she told me afterward, we both drifted back to sleep, tangled in each other like we couldn’t bear to let go. And maybe we couldn’t. Not after a confession like that.
Engaged.
It wasn't my choice.
Her words still echo through my head as the morning light slips in through the curtains. I glance down at her, her head tucked into the crook of my arm, one hand resting gently over my heart, her leg draped across mine like she belongs there, and I wonder how anyone could ever choose to hurt her.
How anyone could look at her and see something they thought they had the right to break.
I tighten my arm around her just a little and press a soft kiss to the top of her head. She stirs, a quiet moan slipping out as she slowly wakes. When her eyes meet mine, she smiles, it’s small and sleepy, but real, and in that instant, I know I’d do anything for this woman.
“Morning,” I whisper, pressing another kiss to her hair.
“Morning,” she mumbles back, voice still heavy with sleep.
“You feeling okay after last night?” I ask, my fingers tracing slow circles across her arm.
She smirks, teasing. “Which part of last night?” Before I can answer, she buries her face into my chest.
I chuckle, remembering how damn perfect last night was with her.
“Well… I guess both parts, but mostly I mean after the nightmare.” I let my hand drift up to brush gently across her cheek.
Her smile falters for a moment, like the weight of our conversation had slipped from her mind between sleep and waking.
“I feel better,” she says softly. “Thank you… for being here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I confess, leaning in to kiss her. I need her to know that what she told me changes nothing.
Liv melts into the kiss, her lips parting, inviting my tongue in. Her soft moans and the way she slides her leg over mine, heat pressing between us, nearly has me saying “fuck it,” but I hold back, slowing the moment until I break the kiss.
My hand finds her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before I lay back down, pulling her close into my arms.
“How would you feel about coming to my parents’ later today?” I ask quietly, “Saturdays are reserved for family dinner. There’s room for you if you want to come.”
She sits up, looking at me with a curious smile. “Do you want me to come?”
“I always want you to come,” I smirk, watching the way she rolls her eyes, trying, and failing, to hide her smile.
“You know what I meant,” she laughs, soft and low.
I chuckle, biting back the urge to tell her just how much I want to make her come… over and over again. Judging by the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth tilts into a knowing smirk, she’s already guessed exactly where my mind went.
“Behave yourself,” I tease.
“I didn’t start it. You did.” She chuckles, trying for innocence, but her eyes give her away.
“Yeah, and you keep looking at me like that,” I lean closer, my voice dropping, ”I’ll finish it too.”
Her blush deepens, and for a second, she just stares at me, lips parted, like she’s not sure whether to call my bluff.
“Anyway…” she says finally, clearing her throat and pretending to focus on something else. “Back to dinner with your parents. I’d love to go with you… if you want me there.”
“I do,” I answer without a second thought.
She leans in and kisses my cheek, then pushes back the blanket and sits up. The sheet slips down, revealing the soft curve of her bare chest, and for a moment, I forget what we were talking about.
I groan as she stands, her naked body a slow, deliberate tease before she slips on a tank top and a pair of pajama shorts.
“You’re trying to kill me,” I mutter, letting my head fall back against the pillow. My arms draping over my eyes, like that’ll stop me from picturing her, but it’s useless.
“You don’t like my pajama’s?” Her voice is teasing, playful, and I can’t help lifting my arms to look at her.
“Love them,” I say, my gaze trailing over her body, “but I’d love to rip them off you even more.”
She grins, far too innocent for the wicked things running through my head. “No can do, lover boy. These are my favorite pajamas. And I’m starving, I need to eat before I pass out.”
The way she says it is so casual, so sweet, but all I can think about is eating her for breakfast.
I bite back the words, climbing out of bed instead. Her eyes immediately drop, traveling down my naked body before lingering on my very obvious problem.
“See something you like?” I tease, smirking as I step into my boxers, then my jeans.
Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. “Maybe.”
I chuckle, tugging on my shirt. “Come on, let’s get you fed before you get me in real trouble.”
She hesitates, teeth tugging at her bottom lip, making her look even sexier than she already does. Then she flashes me a shy grin and turns, slipping out the bedroom door.
My gaze drops to her ass in those tiny shorts, and fuck me, it’s impossible not to stare.
Sending up a silent prayer that I make it through breakfast without bending her over her kitchen counter, I follow after her, heading toward the kitchen.
She’s already pulling things from the cupboards, humming to herself as she moves with ease. I could get used to these kinds of mornings with her.
When she turns, her eyes catch mine, and she smiles. “Hope you like pancakes and bacon.”
I grin, the corner of my mouth lifting. “Where have you been all my life?”
Without missing a beat, Liv smirks and whispers, “Waiting for you.”
I slide onto a stool at the counter, watching her whisk the pancake batter. The bacon sizzles in the pan, and the coffee pot burbles steadily. She looks calm, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her, and that makes me smile.
“Need me to help with anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head with a confident smile. “Nope, I’ve got this.” She pours the pancake batter into the pan, then looks up to catch me already watching her.
“What?” she asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
I can’t help the low groan that slips out. “Watching you make breakfast is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes hold mine; brow raised in amusement. “You think this is sexy?”
I rise slowly, closing the space between us. “Definitely,” I say, voice thick with something I’m not trying to hide.
I round the counter while she flips the pancakes. I slide in behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her close. The warmth of my body presses into hers, solid and steady. My lips find the hollow of her neck, brushing soft, teasing kisses along her skin.
A shiver runs through her, and she melts back against me. I hold the moment, lost in the feel of her against me, until I lean in closer and whisper, “Don’t forget the bacon.”
She jumps, breaking the spell, and nudges me back with her hips.
“Stop trying to distract me,” she laughs, glancing over her shoulder with that familiar spark in her eyes.
I step back, subtly adjusting myself in my jeans, then raise my hands in mock surrender, a low chuckle rumbling in my throat as I circle back to my seat at the counter.
Giving her a little space, I watch her finish plating our breakfast, then slide my plate across the counter toward me. She grabs the maple syrup and sets it down before settling beside me.
Our knees bump lightly, and even with the soft clatter of forks and plates, the air between us hums with something quiet but electric.
I take a bite of pancake and let out a low groan, the sound slipping past my lips without me even realizing it. “This is good,” I say, my voice rough as I reach for another slice of bacon.
She smiles, and I catch the subtle way her jaw moves as she chews, a small, perfect detail I could watch forever.
“Glad you like it,” she says softly.
We take our time finishing breakfast, the conversation easy and unforced. Our glances linger longer than necessary, words left unspoken but understood.
Once we’re finished, I start clearing the dishes, wanting to make the moment feel more real, more ours. It’s domestic in a way I didn’t expect, but honestly, I don’t hate it.
Eventually, I glance at the clock and let out a slow breath. “I should get going. Need to sort out a few things before dinner.”
I can feel her hesitation, even if she doesn’t say it. “Okay,” she replies quietly.
I step closer, sliding my hand up to cup her jaw gently. Pressing my lips to hers, soft and sure. “I’ll come by around five to pick you up?”
Her voice is low, but steady. “Yeah. That works.”
I kiss her again, this time slower, like I’m trying to memorize the taste, reluctant to pull away. Then I head for the door, and she follows me, watching as I step into the warm late morning light.
I turn back and offer her that quiet, familiar smile, the one I know she already claims as hers.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
Closing the door behind me, I carry a weight off my chest—lighter than it’s been in a long time.