AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I see.” His voice was solemn with a hint of grit.
He didn’t. There was no way he could understand the fucking restraint on my part. I wanted this man with every fiber of my being, but I couldn’t be the one to save him. This time, he had to do it himself.
“One year.” My words tumbled out before he could form another thought.
“What?”
“Take one year to figure out your shit. Quit being a deacon. Go to therapy. Do whatever you need to do to embrace Mr. Fox and Nate as one person. If you still want me after that, then I’m yours.”
“Mine.” He raised a brow and smirked, which only made it harder to stay strong.
His eyes were locked on me as I stood and walked over to the dresser and wrote my number down on a little notepad provided by the hotel. I then grabbed the money and stuffed it in my bra, just as I had the night before, and walked over to him. “One year. Find Yourself. Let go.”
Nate sucked a hissed breath when I dropped a knee down on either side of his thighs and sank down so I was straddling him.
“Seal it with a kiss.”
I nodded, and Nate didn’t hesitate. Immediately his lips crashed against mine, and while one hand tangled in my hair, the other wrapped around my waist and tugged me closer to him. I rolled my hips, eliciting a delicious moan from him that vibrated through me. His cock lengthened beneath me, and my lips quirked at the corners.
“You don’t have to wait for me.”
“You wrecked me. Like it or not, I’m yours.”
“You don’t even know me.”
I shrugged and slipped from his lap. Standing before him, I grabbed my shirt and tugged it over my head. “I don’t need to know you, Mr. Fox. I’ve seen your heart laid out before me in all its depraved glory. You’re one of the good ones. Find yourself, and I’ll be waiting.”
It took every ounce of strength for me to turn around and exit that hotel room. I knew it was the right choice. I wouldn’t become the next Maggie. He needed to figure out who he was, and one night couldn’t do that for him.
My muse hated me, but I didn’t care. Absence made the heart grow fonder. And when he came back to me, I intended to keep that man.
EPILOGUE
EDEN
One year later
Why was there never more traffic than when you needed to be somewhere?
It was my own damn fault. I should have left twenty minutes earlier, but I had to finish laying down a few tracks and send them off before I was free for the weekend. Giddiness swelled in my chest, just as it had for the last month. I never imagined this is where I would be a year ago, sending tracks to a major artist to select which she liked best for an upcoming album. Songwriting and producing was a dream only in name, but somehow I’d managed to make it a reality.
That wasn’t true.
I owed it all to my muse. Even though I hadn’t seen him in a year, his place in my heart is what made it possible.
And now I was finally going to get to see him.
I tapped nervously on the steering wheel and checked my reflection in the rearview mirror for the hundredth time. My lipstick was still in place, and my mascara had my lashes sky high. Add in the gorgeous light of golden hour, and I was looking my best.
Too bad my insides were a nervous wreck.
Not that they needed to be. This was Nate. Mr. Fox. He was mine as much as I was his. Sure, we hadn’t physically seen each other for a year—a fact my vibrator and the endless batteries we’d been through together were very much aware of—but it was worth it. Agonizing, but worth it.
It wasn’t like we had no contact. A smile tipped my lips as I thought about the text he sent me that morning with a time, address, and black heart emoji. He once told me it was his favorite to send to me because I was the light for the darkness in his heart. Then I reminded him he was still a golden retriever, even if he wanted to tie me up and fuck me against the headboard.
That’s how it went over the last year. The silent treatment lasted all of a week after I walked out of that hotel room three hundred and sixty-five days ago. At first it was just check-ins here and there to make sure I was okay, and vice-versa. He’d sent me flowers on my birthday, and I’d leave notes in his school mailbox.
Talk about torture—knowing he was on the other side of the door every time I visited his building was excruciating. I’d never admit I sat outside his door during office hours, watching students come and go, in awe of the way they left with a lighter step than when they entered. Nate, I learned, did that to people. He made them feel like they were important, and gave his time without question.
