“You’re really okay with me being here?”
“Let me show you.”
“Yes.”
Cradling Marlowe’s jaw, I surge forward and press our mouths together. She makes a needy sound as I sweep my tongue across the seam of her lips, before dragging me on top of her bodily. I love her soft curves against me, the way she tastes, and the sensation of being in her arms. I’ve never liked a gentle touch, and somehow Marlowe knows this; her hands are firm on my body, a pressure that sends excitement skating over my nerves.
She kisses me back like she’s atoning, a pouring of herself into me that I can only accept with fervour. When she grinds her hips against me, and the heat simmering under my skin feels like it might end me, I wrench myself away. She inhales sharply. I wish I didn’t have to ask, but I don’t want to be her mistake in the morning. “Are you sure about this?”
She laughs breathlessly, tightens her fingers at the roots of my hair, and pulls me back down. “Shut the fuck up, captain.”
With Marlowe clutching at me, it takes everything I have to resist melting into her again. “Did you sneak in here for a reason?”
She finds my hand in the dark and slides it between her legs. The moan I breathe into her neck is as obscene as it gets. It suddenly doesn’t matter why we shouldn’t do this. She wraps her legs around my waist, pressing my fingers deeper into the slick warmth of her.
“Or we could sleep...” she teases.
But really, the time for sleeping is long past.
When we’ve tired each other out but sleep is still far away, it feels wrong to call for Kit, to break this hushed moment, so I lean out of bed to turn a lamp on. Marlowe’s voice drifts out of the darkness.
“Don’t. Just, for a little bit, can we stay like this?”
I hesitate before curling back up around her. I can’t read the undertone in her voice, subdued and fragile as it is. She sounds a little lost.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I murmur into her hair.
Silence. It goes on for a while, but Marlowe eventually nods. “Can we stay like this?”
I tighten around her, one hand at her waist whilst she cushions her head on me. Her body faces away, her breath fanning across the inside of my arm.
“For as long as you want.”
Marlowe hesitates. “You’re gonna think I’m a bad person.”
Surprise jolts through me, but I don’t comment. If only she knew. If—
“Sometimes,” she whispers into the night, “I wonder who I’d be if I never met Dominik. If I’d stuck to the plan, if I... never got pregnant. Isn’t that terrible?”
I don’t reply, just burrow my face into her neck.
“I love Vee more than I thought possible. Heisme, as narcissistic as that sounds. I’ve spent the last decade building a future for him. Trying to, anyway. Every decision I make is for him. He’s my whole heart. But lately, I’ve started to realise that isn’t exactly... healthy.”
Marlowe makes a sound in her throat, something like mortification, or frustration, maybe.
“He’s not supposed to be mywholeheart. I’ve spent such a long time fighting Dominik and trying to be more to Vee than my parents were to me. I’ve blitzed any aspect of my identity that isn’t ‘Vee’s Mother’. I left dreams behind. I left fun behind. Don’t get me wrong; I would kill for that boy. I regret nothing. But I forgot what it feels like to be giddy, you know? I forgot what it feels like to want someone, without it needing to be any more complicated than that, you know?
“Dating as a single parent is tricky, but I think I made it even more of a trial than it needed to be. Every conversation was so serious. Everyone had to go under a microscope. It was exhausting, so I just gave up. In the end, there were only two things I cared about: making sure Vee was happy, and making sure Dominik didn’t hurt him. Isn’t that such a sad existence? Imagine that for the rest of your life.”
Suddenly, Marlowe turns into me. Her hands ghost over my face, trailing my eyes, my cheeks, my lips. Her breath follows suit, brushing over my mouth.
“Imagine not taking a chance on you,” she murmurs.
I wish I could see her right now, drink in her expression. My pulse picks up, heavy like a hammer against my glass veins. I should say something. I don’t know what, because nothing seems right. Is she taking back what she said this morning? Am I reading too much into this?
She shifts closer, pushes her body flush against mine, and presses an open-mouthed kiss to my jaw. “Imagine living with that regret forever.”
“Marlowe,” I start to say.
