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I love him so much. My heart expands with him filling up all the space.
“Kieran, Kieran,” Leonie says, “Sixty seconds.”
“Sixty-two,” he adds, and she beams at him, counting with her. “You’re getting better.”
He kisses me and goes to her. I push myself off the edge of the pool and dry myself.
On the lounge chair, I put sunblock on, sipping from a glass of lemonade, and push the sunglasses up my forehead.
“Your mother would be proud. I guess at least one of you got a Hunt man.”
“I. Am. Not. Her.”
I love my mom deeply, but what she did is not something I am proud of. Yet, that doesn’t give me the right to judge.
“Get pregnant and trap him with a baby. Then you will definitely stay for good.”
“I will stay because we love each other, and it has nothing to do with anything else.”
Great, I just told his mother I love him. I’m not even a hundred percent sure he actually loves me back. I know he’sobsessed with me, utterly possessive, but does that count as love? Can you know for sure if the other person hasn’t said the words? My mood shifts from great to nagging thoughts.
“I am sorry you had to go through that. I can only imagine how terrible a betrayal that is, but I also remember the woman who chased after me, made cookies, and was the best mother to her son. I miss her, and I know Kieran misses her too.”
Her eyes widen and contradictory emotions flash in her green eyes. She opens her mouth, but clamps it and disappears inside the house instead.
Kieran asks me with his eyes if everything is all right and I shrug, because I don’t know.
“Come on, we’re going inside,” I say and stand up with a towel.
“Five more minutes.”
“Leonie, you said that five minutes ago.” Her doe eyes don’t work on me when the sun is high in the sky.
She sighs, but nods. After I dry her, she runs into the house.
“That goes for you too,” I say, approaching the pool, my hands on my hips.
“Fuck, I’m hard now. I like you bossy.”
I shake my head at him and he says, “Help me out?”
I lower my hand and the asshole pulls me into the water with him, his laughter echoing around us. I slap his chest as I cough the water out.
“Sweetheart, that was too easy.”
“Ugh.”
But he kisses me, silencing my protests.
“And here I was, about to ask you to help me with something,” I say, lowering my voice into hopefully a seductive tone, grazing my nails over his nipples.
“Is that so?”
“But now I am all wet.”
“You being wet is my favorite.”
He has no shame. I giggle.
