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“Just that. You think of sex as a sport.”
“Well, it once was.” I pulled at a leather band on my wrist. “In any case, what I had with you wasn’t just physical.” I looked into her eyes, which returned a wide, glassy stare. “Didn’t you feel that?”
She shrugged. “I did. But I thought all those cuddles, sweet words, and soft kisses were part of your act.”
My brows squeezed tight. “What? Do you really think I’m that fucking fake? Hell, Mirabel.” I shook my head. “I did treat sex as sport. But not with you. I can’t believe you thought I was making that up.” Fire bit my belly. My emotions started to play havoc with my mood again.
I walked over to the crib, and seeing that beautiful baby calmed me down. “I’ve hardly slept with anyone. Just one girl since we were together.” I exhaled. “I’ve grown tired of sex as sport.”
Her lips curled into a half-smile. “Yeah. I know what you mean. Although for me, it wasn’t sport as much as…” She shrugged. “I guess I was asserting my right to do what men have been doing all my life.”
“Here’s to feminism,” I said dryly.
“Sexual freedom has led to a lot of confusion too,” she added. “Anyway, to get back to what we were saying earlier, about my insecurity.” She cleared her throat. “I saw the girls and how they all looked at you.”
“And was I flirting with them?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. You were the model gentleman while we dated for that short time.”
“Short time? For me, it was the longest I’d ever dated one woman.”
“Your inexperience with relationships also made me doubt this. Us.” A half smile came and went. “Especially with me growing attached and losing myself in you.”
“But I loved you losing yourself in me.” I took a breath. “I felt pretty fucking jealous when I learned of you and Orson.”
She pulled a face, as though she’d tasted something bad. “He was awful. I mean, he’s a talented producer, and even more so as a manager, but he’s not very good in other ways.”
“Oh? Please tell me his dick was smaller.” I winced. “Sorry, that must make me sound shallow.”
She sniffed. “You’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
“Let’s just bury all that, will we?” I rose to visit my son’s crib again.
We stood by the crib, where I felt the warmth of her body. I could feel her energy. Like there were sparks coming off her. I wanted so much to hold her. But I read hesitancy. One step at a time. And what was I wanting here?
“Can I get a photo of him?” I asked.
She smiled sweetly. “Of course. And I’ll send you some pictures from when he was born, if you like.”
“Oh, please do.” I dragged out my phone and clicked photos. His eyes opened and I smiled at my son. His rosebud lips curled, and my universe turned into bright technicolour.
I clicked away. “He’s a natural actor. He’s aware that we’re going all melty over him.”
Her head pushed back. “Melty?” She chuckled. “You’re a prat.”
“And so are you.”
Mirabel followed me to the door, and we stood there again. I leaned in and kissed her cheeks, lingering on her soft skin. My lips wanted to do more than taste that cheek.
“Can I come again?” I asked. “Can we have a day at Merivale? You come over for lunch with Cian.”
She nodded slowly.
“Why don’t you let me treat you to a day at the spa? You and your cousin or your aunty. I can mind Cian.”
Her eyes fell into mine again. “You know, I might just take you up on that.”
Chapter 29
