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My gut curls, but my mind beams with light.
She nibbles on her lip. “I know I’m messed up and—”
“You’re not messed up.”
“Nothing has felt real since I woke up, but being here…” Hesitantly, her hand glides up, and it doesn’t stop. “I can’t explain it.”
My blood pumps wildly, every muscle in my body contracting. “I made you a promise once.”
“What promise?”
“Never to deny you, so I need you to think really hard about your next move, because I’m not strong enough to be a better man here. A promise to you is something I will never break, even if you don’t remember me making it, but I’m not sure if this is me being noble or if it’s being selfish.” My hand lowers, my thumb gliding along her lower lip. She shivers and heat spreads through me. “You should walk away, Juliet.”
“I don’t want to.” Tears fill her eyes, and her head lowers, so I meet her forehead with mine. As slowly as possible, she presses her lips to the corner of mine, and holds there for a long moment.
I can hardly fucking breathe, hardly keep my hands from driving into her hair, but I somehow manage to keep myself still.
When she finally pulls back, it’s with the softest of smiles. “Do you think we can maybe talk for a little while?”
Possibility sends a spark through my chest and the muscles in my neck stretch. “Always. As long as you want.”
I thought maybe she’d lead us to the living room, but she simply lowers to the floor, leaning her back against my bed, so I do the same, mine against the wall across from her, and wait.
Ari
* * *
Noah stares as I pull my legs up and drop my chin against my knees.
“Tell me something,” I ask.
A tenderness blankets him, and he looks down, biting back a smile as if he has a secret, and suddenly, I want to know all of his.
With humor in his gaze, he meets mine. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
His eyes pierce mine, and I swear they grow glossy, but in the next moment, they’re clear and enthralled by me.
Noah smiles and something in my chest stirs.
He starts speaking, and I hang on his every word.
Chapter 50
Arianna
* * *
It was well after midnight when my brother finally decided he could no longer hold back and called Noah. I met him at the bottom of the stairs, and we piled into his Tahoe, Chase and the others already tucked inside.
We didn’t speak much on the ride back to the beach house, and by the time we arrived, everyone was ready for bed.
Once again, I didn’t get much sleep, the events of the day looping through my mind, thoughts of what might have happened whirling around. It’s hard, not knowing if what I see is a memory or a twisted fantasy that stems from the desperate need to know I find myself burning in.
By the time the sun rises, I’m already getting out of the shower and heading straight for the first place I felt the need to be.
As I suspected, she’s up and spots me through the bay window.
With a small smile, Payton pushes open the door, her hair a messy pile on her head, her eyes tired.
“Ari, hi.” She ushers me in, retaking her place at the counter, where she’s mixing a bottle for her son. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I… Payton.”
Her eyes lift to mine.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She frowns.
When I pin her with a knowing look, she sighs, walks over and wraps her arms around me.
“Trust me, Ari. I understand.”
I nod, squeezing her back and blowing out a long breath when she lets go.
“Any chance you could use a little more sleep?”
Nerves swim through me as her steps pause, and she glances over her shoulder. But then she walks to me. “I could use an uninterrupted shower…”
Chewing at my lip, I nod, take the bottle from Payton’s hands and curve around the corner.
I step up to the bassinet, quickly turning to Payton before she’s gone.
“Payton.”
She halts.
“Thank you.”
With a small smile, she nods, and then she disappears down the hall.
I run my hands along the edge of the plush blue blanket, and as my face comes into view, Deaton’s eyes find me.
“Hey, buddy,” I whisper, chuckling when he kicks his feet.
With a deep breath, I gently lift him into my arms, his little cooing sounds warming parts of me I was afraid to feel.
As I lower into the rocking chair with him in my arms, moisture builds in my eyes, but it’s not from sadness. I’m not really sure what it’s from. All I know is that the baby in my arms is precious. He latches onto the bottle with ease, his hands coming up to cover mine as if he’s determined to hold the thing himself, and a low laugh leaves me.
