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“I’m still in my forties.”
“Only for two more years.”
“Don’t remind me.”
She pouted, but I knew she didn’t care as much about her age as others did, and I wondered if that had to do with everything she’d been through.
She often said she was happy she survived the past, but there were still times, although rare now, that she felt the wave of doubt and unease swirl through her. When I asked her to elaborate, she’d give me a faint smile and play it off as her just being tired. I never pushed because I’d done enough of that to last me a lifetime. Plus, we’d learned to read each other’s signals pretty well. Hell, we’d been together since we were teenagers. If we didn’t know what made the other tick by now, we should just walk away, which by the way, wasn’t an option. Not even on the radar.
I held her gaze for longer than normal, so many things bombarding my thoughts, all while trying not to show my inner conflict.
After a moment, she stepped into me. “Are you okay? You seem… um… off lately.”
“Off?”
She nodded. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something is different with you.” She paused before continuing. “Is it the club?”
“No.” I couldn’t tell her. Not yet.
“Anything going on with your brother?”
I shook my head before pulling her closer. “Nothin’s wrong. I’m just tired.”
The arch of her brow told me she didn’t buy my lame excuse. “Of being nomad? Do you want to come back here permanently?”
“I’d never say no to that, but I know you can’t move back.”
“I wish I could. It would make things easier for you. I know. But I just—”
“We’ve been over this,” I said, placing my hands on her cheeks in a show of comfort. “I’m fine being nomad.”
“Fine,” she repeated. “But it’s not ideal.”
“What part of our lives has ever been ideal?” I laughed to assuage the harsh truth of my question. We hadn’t had an easy go of it, but we were still here, and for that I was thankful. “Seriously, stop worrying about that. I’m good.”
Edana’s response was to wrap her arms around my waist and inch into me, laying her head on my chest. “I feel guilty about making you choose between me and the club. I wish I was different. I wish I was able to give you what you want.”
A fraction of pain weaved its way through each syllable she spoke, and I needed a moment to fully register her words. We hadn’t talked about me deciding to go nomad for years. I wasn’t sure why she brought this up now, other than to figure out why I’d been acting “off.”
If only she knew the real reason.
Then tell her.
I pulled back so I could see her face. The glassiness in her eyes tugged at my heart. I hated she thought she wasn’t enough because she was.
She was everything.
“As long as we’re together, I don’t care where I am.” I lived in the silence that followed, willing her to believe me, praying she took what I said as the truth.
When she didn’t respond, I tilted her head upward and pressed my lips to hers, trying to show her with a kiss how much she meant to me, but it wasn’t enough. I needed her, the urge to dominate her thoughts more forceful than ever. But since that was unrealistic, I’d settle for dominating her body.
Without warning, I bent down and grabbed her around the backs of her thighs, tossing her over my shoulder when I stood back up to my full height.
“What are you doing?” she asked, smacking me on the ass as I hurried toward our bedroom.
“Reminding you that you’re enough for me.” She’d been chuckling at the sudden bout ofcaveman, but the sound trickled off until the only thing I could hear was the mingled sound of our breaths.
When I placed her back on her feet, inches from the bed, she stepped into me and traced the arch of my brow with the tip of her finger.
