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I moaned into his mouth as his hand palmed my ass, grinding my body into his.
He let out a growl at my response, the first audible one I’d had to his touch since…then. The single thought was like ice water and I froze, my hunger retreating as the demons won again.
Heath noted the instant change. He always did. Because it was becoming the norm. Every time we got further, every time we nudged at the desperate hunger I knew was hiding in between both of us—that Heath was physically restraining—my ugly memories fought back.
He released his grip on my ass, moving one hand to my hip, the other to cup my jaw. His eyes roved over my face with concern. He didn’t ask me if I was okay.
He never did.
He knew I wasn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He jerked as if I’d struck him, his hand flexing at my hip, his jaw hardening. “You don’t apologize, Sunshine,” he clipped. “No fuckin’ way do you apologize for kissin’ me like that, for giving me that when I know what it takes from you.” He kissed my nose. “I’m the fucker that should be sorry. Sorry I’m pushing you.”
“No,” I interrupted. “You’re not.”
And I was right. He wasn’t pushing me. I was pushing myself. Because he’d made it apparent he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard I tried to push him away. And I didn’t want him going anywhere.
So if I wasn’t pushing him away, I needed to push myself back. Back to somewhere we could try this. Somewhere we could make this work.
His eyes searched mine. “Polly,” he said, voice tender but tentative. He inhaled, and I knew it was coming. The moment when he asked me, straight up, what happened.
He was yet to do that.
And I was thankful. Because he seemed to know how impossible it was for me to utter it. And how impossible it was for me to lie to him.
But there was only so long a man like Heath could wait. Could withstand the torture of not knowing.
I braced.
But then the door opened.
“I didn’t barf today!” Lucy announced to the room.
Heath and I both jerked back, well, I did. Heath moved enough to tuck me into his side.
Lucy looked between the two of us with a shrewd gaze. “Oh, am I interrupting?” she asked, sweetly.
“No,” I said at the same time Heath snapped, “Yes.”
I smacked his shoulder.
Pain radiated through my knuckle as it encountered pure marble.
“Damn you and your iron type shoulders,” I hissed, rubbing my hand.
He snatched it and laid his lips gently on it. “Oh, did my shoulder hurt your fist?”
I scowled at him but did not snatch my hand back.
“Okay, this is so sweet I could vomit,” Lucy interrupted, throwing her purse on the sofa and doing her best to sit down gracefully.
An impossibility since she was eight months pregnant.
“I could vomit, but I won’t,” she continued. “Because I didn’t vomit today,” she said, grinning.
“Congratulations,” Heath said dryly.
She glared at him. “I know you’re being sarcastic, but I don’t even care. Because I’ve been vomiting, every day, at least three times a day for eight months. And now I have not.” She rubbed her belly. “It was kind of an asshole move to make me sick until the last month of pregnancy, but your father is kind of an asshole, so it makes sense,” she muttered, talking to her belly.
I inwardly flinched at watching the moment, hating the envy I had for the sister I loved. Heath squeezed me a little tighter, kissing my temple as if he sensed my thoughts.
“I’ve gotta go,” he murmured against my hair.
“Yes you do,” I agreed.
He turned me to face him fully, Lucy still talking to her belly.
He cupped my cheek. “You need anything?”
Apart from a time machine?
The ability to kiss my boyfriend—if that’s what he was now—without wanting to crawl out of my skin?
To not look at my glowing and pregnant sister without feeling jealous that I’d never get that?
I shook my head.
He laid a kiss on my mouth. “I’ll be back at three.”
I nodded once. It was Friday, after all.
“I’m teaching a class at one, so I’ll be at the studio.”
“Well then, I’ll be there,” he amended. “With that horrible green shit you like to drink afterward.”
Warmth spread through my belly. “It’s good for you.”
“I sure hope so,” he muttered.
I smiled. And it was real.
“There it is,” he murmured, kissing me again.
I melted into it.
He stepped back, hands fisted at his side.
“Bye,” he said.
I waved because my vocal cords weren’t working.
“Bye Heath!” Lucy all but yelled, grinning from ear to ear.
“Bye Luce,” he muttered. “Congrats on the no barfing.”
I watched him leave.
He paused at the door for one last glimpse.
I blew him a kiss.
And then he was gone.
“Oh my god,” Lucy uttered.
I snapped my eyes downward. “What is it?” I rushed forward in a panic. “Is it the baby? Is it coming? I was six weeks early you know.”
