I lower my hands, thirsty for all his secrets, wanting to fill in all the gaps of our history and rewrite our story the way it’s meant to be.
“I was sitting with the bartender and she accused me of liking you, and I told her that I’d proposed and you rejected me. That I’d survive liking you and watching you date other people.” He snorts. “I wanted to kill every guy who texted you.”
His words come out as a low, possessive growl that makes me shudder. He’s Tristan Prince, CEO, not just Tristan Prince my friend. A man who goes after what he wants. Who might seethe with ambition under his careless exterior.
It puts the last few weeks in a whole new light.
I lever up on my elbow. “You were pursuing me because you wanted me.”
His smile is wry. “Took you a while, Bailey.” The smile falls. “You gutted me,” he admits roughly. “When you said it was practice on the dock.”
My stomach squeezes. We’ve hurt each other so much. It feels impossible that we’ve ended up here. “I was scared.”
“I know, baby.” He kisses my neck, pulls me down over him. “We did it.”
“I can’t believe it.” I rest my whole weight on him, spreading my arms out and relaxing into his chest. “Do you think it will ever feel normal?”
He hums and sifts his fingers through my hair. “To me, it already does. But I like having something to prove.”
I turn my head against his chest. “What does that mean?”
“Every day I make you fall a bit more in love with me. For the rest of our lives.” He rolls me, presses me into the mattress. “In fact, I think I’ve waited long enough.” He growls the words into my neck, and I laugh.
“I feel like I’ve won the lottery.”
“Piss-poor prize,” he mutters.
I kiss his neck. “The only prize I’ve ever really wanted.”
His teeth find the lobe of my ear. “How much do you love me today, Katie, baby?”
“About twenty percent.”
He hums. “On your back, wench. I want it to be at least fifty percent by morning.”
61
TRISTAN
“Iam not giving her up,” I announce to the room. “So get used to it.”
“Tristan, I don’t think anyone was asking you to do that,” Katie whispers. She’s smiling at me, and I shrug, but I can feel my face heating.
I had to make sure. I need everyone to know where we stand.
My siblings all look up from their places around my coffee table. Katie’s hand is wrapped in mine. It’s Sunday dinner, and I’ve brought her before, but based on everyone’s wide eyes, they realize exactly what the implications are. Katie is gripping my palm like she’s trying to fuse our hands together.
“Katie,” Emory breathes. She scrambles to stand and wraps my girlfriend in a hug. “He’s never brought anyone home before,” she teases. Katie chokes a laugh and hugs her back, and something settles in my chest.
Aiden is smiling at me over his wife’s head, that secret Aiden smile that is more eyes than mouth.Good job, hemouths, and damn if it doesn’t feel like parental approval as his words wash over me.
Sienna is hissing something over video call to Whit. I hear the words “bet” and “owe” and I roll my eyes. She gives him a neck-slicing gesture before she turns the camera and leaps up to wrap her arms around Katie too, then me.
“Knew it,” she whispers. Her arms tighten as I try to shove her off. “Hurt her and I’ll gut you.”
“I’ll gut me first,” I grumble, and she seems satisfied with this answer.
We take our seats on the couch, and Katie is a full six inches away. I drag her against me.
