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“I opened the door just a crack. It’s like you’re hypnotized.”
“We make a good team. You’ve made the writing ten times better.”
“What about your sister? What about your nephew?”
“Patrick’s already threatening them. He’s unhinged. He won’t stop. We have to make him.”
I roll over, lean up, and kiss my man on the cheek. “We will. Together.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Jamie
I hold the printed article in my hands, scanning the lines, feeling that unique smile tug at the corner of my lips as I read. It’s the feeling of having somethingdone, a spark of creativity that burned and became an inferno.
“This is half yours,” I say, looking across the bedroom at Lucy.
It’s the morning of the third day since we learned the truth, and I promised her no more lies. We’ve locked ourselves away from the world, pretending it doesn’t exist, living off the food in her cupboards. She’s even called in sick to work.
We’ve focused on the article, the story, and Lucy learning more as she reads. Sometimes, when she gets to the sections when I take the pills, I wonder if there’s judgment in her eyes. Then I saw the moment I described the cold-turkey withdrawal, and so muchprideemanated from her.
“Do you know how difficult that is to do?”she said.
“I never should’ve gotten myself into that mess to begin with.”
“Still, it proves you’ll always try to do the right thing.”
Apart from the work, Lucy has seemed a little distant. We hold each other. We kiss, but it’s as if she’s closed off other parts of herself. I can’t blame her after everything she learned and everything I did.
“I mean it,” I say when she stares at me with those gorgeous eyes.
She’s wearing jeans and a simple T-shirt but might as well be in the world’s sexiest lingerie. That’s the response she triggers in me, wild hunger every time. Out of respect, I’ve somehow managed to restrain myself.
“You made this so much better. Without you, the website wouldn’t take it. With you, they’ll have to.”
“What will Kylie think?” she asks quietly.
I swallow, repressing a shudder. “I’ve lied to her for years. To everybody. I’m not sure what anybody’s going to think.”
Lucy stands up from the bed and comes and sits on my knee. It’s the most outwardly affectionate she’s been since we started working on this article. She throws her arms around me, leans down, and kisses me on the cheek.
“That you’re not a killer. You’re a good man. You did the right thing, even if it’s scary.That’swhat people will think. Come on. Let’s clicksendtogether.”
“You’re an amazing person,” I tell her, and it’s the most honest thing I’ve ever said. “You could hate me for what I did. For the lies I told. You could hate me for coming into your life and bringing your dad back. You could hate me so much. I’ll never forget that. You chose…”
Love, I almost say, and it feels so right. It feels like what Ishouldsay and the only thing that makes sense. There’s so much love between us that goes beyond words and experiences. It’s bone-deep. It’s unquestioning and only has one condition. She touches nobody else. Or maybe two conditions… She accepts that if somebody else touchesher, I end them.
“Am I a sucker?” she whispers a moment later. “Some people are going to think that, aren’t they?”
“Let them think what they want.” As I talk, I squeeze onto her hips, like I always will. “We know the truth. We know what we felt. A unique, instant certainty, Lucy. How many people have ever felt something like that? How many could?”
She trails her fingernails through my hair. I love when she does it, the physical sensation, the intimacy. It awakens savage parts of me, and I can’t help but slide my hands from her hips to her ass.
She whimpers like she always does when I try to initiate something. There’s so much lust in her, trying to burst out. I watch as she visibly goes to war with it. It’s a battlefield on her face, her desire trying to coax her into letting go, but something’s holding her back. I haven’t addressed it with words. I’ll know when my woman’s ready.
Suddenly, she asks, “Do you promise never to lie to me again?”
I sit up, bringing my hips to hers, cradling her back. She squeals, giggling gorgeously, when I lift her up so she can shift her position. She splits her legs over my middle. She lets out another whimper when my manhood grinds against her groin. Her body responds like a reflex, as always, even as she tightens her grip on my shoulders and sighs as if frustrated, like she wants to fight her pleasure.
