Chapter Twenty-Four
Honor
I wake up pressed against warm muscles and sunlight peeking through the crack in the beige curtains. Glancing down at the object keeping me in place, I see coarse blond hair on the thick arm wrapped around my waist and slowly remember where I am and who I’m with.
Last night, I finally told Bodhi the truth.
It took approximately twenty different panicked texts to Mila to finally rip the Band-Aid off and say what I should have said to Bodhi months ago.
And, frankly, it had little to do with my best friend’s less than encouraging replies to my internal breakdown, which were anything but helpful in calming me down.
Mila: I’m not friends with a chicken shit
Mila: Tell him or you’ll regret it!!!
Mila: That sounded way more threatening than I meant it to be
If I had admitted to Bodhi on day one that we had a past, would he have been as understanding as he was last night?
We’ve gotten to know each other better than when we first met, so he cares about how I feel now than when I all but bolted the second he gave me the opportunity to at the aquarium. Things with us are different.
Better.
Scarier.
“Good morning,” I hear from behind me, before a pair of lips press against the back of my shoulder.
I look over my shoulder at Bodhi as he looks down at me. There’s no sign of sleep hanging onto his features the way they do mine. “How long have you been awake?”
He smiles. “A while. My internal alarm, which looks oddly like my six-year-old daughter, usually gets me up early. Depends how hungry she is.”
His arm doesn’t move as I turn to face him, and I feel something very long and very hard brush against my leg in the process.
Bodhi clears his throat, trying to move his hips away from me. Is he blushing? “Sorry. That was bound to happen when I slept next to a beautiful woman all night.”
My eyebrows jump up my forehead. “I’ve been upgraded to beautiful now, huh?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ve wanted to say it before, but I didn’t want you getting scared if I was too forward about it. You would have gotten scared and ran off.”
I really hate when he’s right.
“So,” he says softly, moving hair out of my face. He must not be afraid of morning breath, because he gets closer. “Did you really have a crush on me all this time?”
I groan, covering my face with my hands. “I can’t believe I admitted that to you. Do you know how long Mila gave me shit for that?”
He chuckles and peels my hands away. “I find it quite flattering.”
I glare at him. “Of course you do.”
He smooths a thumb over my cheek with a warm smile lighting his face up.
“I don’t want you to be embarrassed. The fact that I could give you any sort of relief from the life you were living, any type of happiness you weren’t getting from him, makes me happier than you can ever understand, honey.
I wish that I was in a better headspace back then to remember every detail.
I’d been so caught up in becoming a dad that everything else seemed so… ”
The way he shakes his head tells me he doesn’t even have the right words to describe it.
“You did seem a bit distraught. But it’s understandable if it wasn’t a planned thing. You were dedicated to hockey. A kid has the potential to throw a wrench into those plans, but I’d say you’ve managed pretty well.”
A thoughtful look crosses over his face.
“It’s funny how something you thought could be the end of your life actually makes it so much better.
Gem might not have been planned, but she was exactly what I needed.
If it weren’t for her, I’d be living at the bottom of a bottle.
Coach might have had to let me go. I was barely living.
I was existing and pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.
Becoming a father…” His throat bobs and hid faraway look makes me wonder what memories he’s thinking of. “It saved me.”
A watery feeling rises up my throat. Am I seriously about to cry right now? No. Nope. “You really know how to tug on the heart, don’t you?”
He swipes his thumb under my lash line to capture the single tear that I don’t manage to hold back. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, feeling a little pathetic for being so emotional.
“I’m not sad or anything. I used to try picturing Max as a father.
He knew I wanted at least one kid, but we agreed that we weren’t ready.
And the longer we waited, and the worse our relationship got, it made it harder and harder for me to see him as a dad. Which sounds awful.”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t, Honor.”
“I was married to someone who I couldn’t picture having children with. That makes it seem like Max was some terrible human being. And it’s not like he’s a saint or anything—”
Bodhi snorts, making me playfully swat him.
“—but it isn’t like he murdered someone either.
He was always very career focused. A bit selfish and greedy.
He definitely put himself first whenever he could, and I supported him.
It made me wonder what he would be like if we had a kid.
Would he show up for our future son? Our future daughter?
Would he put the effort into being involved in their lives and hobbies?
Could he be a better partner for me while I was pregnant or struggling to raise them? ”
I close my eyes for a second, remembering how defeated I felt when I realized I could no longer see him in that role.
It was a depressing reality that I knew would be a likely one.
“Some people aren’t cut out to be parents, and he’s one of them.
I think that might have been one of the final reasons I had to end it. ”
Bodhi’s hand moves from my face to the back of my neck, cupping the nape of it lightly. “I’m sorry he made you question something that was important to you.”
All I can do is shrug. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.
By then, I’d already had one foot out the door.
Mentally, I was drained. Emotionally, I was exhausted.
Physically, I could barely function. With Max, children seemed like the furthest concern from my mind.
Without him, I thought I’d have a better chance at becoming a mother.
But with my PCOS flaring up, I’m worried it’s a faraway dream.
I swallow. “Hearing you talk about the impact fatherhood had on you, it brought back those memories. It makes me see that some people are born to be parents. You’re definitely one of them.”
Picturing him holding a baby version of Gemma almost does my ovaries in, and I squirm a little at the thought.
Bodhi studies me, and his eyes darken at whatever he must read on my face. “What are you thinking about?”
I should lie. Tell him nothing. Tell him I need to get up and brush my teeth. But I don’t. “I’m picturing you holding a baby,” I admit, almost breathlessly as the fingers cupping my neck flex.
His breath radiates off my face, becoming a little heavier. “Yeah?”
Slowly, I nod. “Yeah.” It sounds breathless as we move closer to one another, and I feel his steel length pressing against me the same moment his nose grazes mine.
It sparks something deep inside me that I’ve ignored for a long time. “Bodhi,” I whisper, arching my hips into him until he groans.
Before I know it, I’m on my back with Bodhi hovering over me. “We shouldn’t do this,” he says, his lips dangerously close to mine.
But my insides are screaming “yes we can!” enthusiastically as my legs open to give his body access between them. “Is this the part where you tell me we need to wait until after three dates?”
His face drops to the crook of my neck, nipping the spot above my pulse and making me gasp as his tongue drags across it.
“No,” he replies against my skin. It sounds almost like a groan as he grinds himself against me in the perfect spot, sending heat shooting through my limbs.
“This is the part where I tell you that I have no lock on the door and a very impatient little girl who has a tendency to barge in.”
Oh god. “We should stop then,” I say breathlessly, moving against him. The seam of the borrowed shorts rubs me in the right way as he creates a perfect amount of friction with each movement.
“We should,” he agrees, not actively making an effort to stop at all.
His lips move over mine, hovering a fraction of an inch and staying there as I moan softly over the feeling building in my lower stomach. I feel like a teenager, experimenting with my first boyfriend again.
“B-Bodhi,” I say in a choked voice, my eyes closing as I arch my hips up to feel him slide across me. Even with clothes on, this feels better than what I’m used to.
He still doesn’t kiss me. “I know, honey.” I feel his breath against my lips and want so badly for his mouth on mine. For him to touch me. For him to be inside of me.
My arms wrap around his neck to hold on, and he moves my legs to wrap around his waist, keeping his firm grip on one of my thighs as his hips pick up the pace.
“Jesus,” he grunts, his eyes watching mine as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. “You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you, Honor. If Gemma weren’t here, you’d be naked and writhing as I ate your pussy. You’d be begging me to stop.”
An overwhelming amount of heat spreads through my body at his dirty talk and it’s almost too much. “I wouldn’t,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t tell you to stop.”
“You’d want me to keep going?” he asks, voice sounding gruff and sharp. “You’d want me to keep making you come, honey?”
I nod, tightening my arms around him as hot, tingling sensations shoot down my spine. “Yes.”
The rhythm I try keeping with him starts to become rocky, so he grabs my other hip and holds me still as he grinds into me. “Would you let me come inside of you? Let me mark you? Let me make you mine? Because that’s what I want, Honor. I want your cunt full of me.”