Her gaze was so full of hope it made my ribs ache.
“Will you? Can you be the father my child deserves? Even if things don’t work between you and me. Even if we only end up being friends. Please, Cal?”
Every dream I’d forced myself to bury was suddenly, impossibly, on the table. The woman I’d waited for had just offered me a future I thought I’d never have.
And she’d done it while sprawled naked beside me.
“Yes.”
My mouth found hers in a slow, searing kiss. She tasted like salt and I kissed her deeper, chasing something underneath it. Her fingers pressed into my skin, and the small sound she made against my lips almost broke me.
Then her hand slid between us, wrapping around my cock, and the tenderness burned away.
We fell into each other all over again.
And again.
Days blurred together. My promise to visit Eric’s family before Solange flew home, work, school, the hospital—all of it was forgotten. Even Chantel, who still hadn’t come home, became an afterthought.
We’d been too consumed with each other. The feel of our bodies joined, the sounds we made, the endless, staggering discovery of what we could do to each other.
But as extraordinary as sex for days had been—and it had been really fucking extraordinary—it couldn’t last forever. Real life didn’t care how happy we were. Real life demanded we wake up.
It came barreling in at precisely two forty-five on a Tuesday afternoon. In the form of a cop with a bad attitude who was even bossier than Chantel.
Zadie and I were sprawled on the living room couch after a marathon of superhero movies—the end credits for The Avengers scrolling across the screen. We’d also just finished a very different kind of marathon, having watched approximately fifteen minutes of the actual movie. Everything after that had been background noise while Zadie stripped us both and proceeded to blow my mind. Again.
She was lying on top of me, sweaty and naked, her body molded perfectly to mine, when someone hammered on the front door.
We both jumped.
“Who the hell is that?” she hissed.
“Maybe it’s Chantel.” I scrambled to help her find her clothes while hunting for my pants.
“Why would Chantel knock on her own front door?”
The knocking came again, harder this time.
“I don’t know. Maybe she lost her key.” I pulled on my jeans, kissed Zadie’s cheek, and gave her ass a light tap. “Get out of here. I’ll see who it is.”
I crossed the living room and opened the door.
“Caleb. Took you long enough.” Dylan stood on the porch with his thumbs hooked in his pockets. His golden-blond hair was longer and messier than I’d ever seen it, his expression giving nothing away.
“I was busy.” I leaned against the doorframe. “What are you doing here?”
“Chantel sent me. She wants Zadie but figured you two would be a package deal by now.”
“What?”
“You are a package deal, aren’t you?” His gruff tone sharpened. “Tell me you locked that shit down.”
“Cal?” Zadie’s voice came from behind me.
I glanced back to find her wearing one of my T-shirts—and only my fucking shirt—her bare legs pressed together, her eyes darting between me and the man in the doorway.
We’d been apart for two minutes, but looking at her now was like seeing her for the first time. Her hair was tangled, her cheeks flushed, her lips bright red. She looked thoroughly and recently fucked. She looked sinful and stunning.
