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I want him in my bed every night when I go to sleep, and I want him to be there with me in the morning.
And if I can’t have it all, then I don’t want any of it.
I don’t want fucking crumbs.
But he’s made it clear he wants me, however that looks, and if he has to keep me in a cage to get his way…
I think he probably will.
Chapter Fifty-one
Brynn
The apartment is beautiful, but then I never doubted it would be.
The building is right by a nice Italian restaurant, so Killian takes me there for dinner after he shows me the place.
When we leave, he takes me to pick out new furniture.
He wants my cage to be pretty so I won’t want to leave it.
If I don’t try to leave, then I never have to find out I’m not allowed to.
He doesn’t say any of that, of course. But he doesn’t have to.
I pick out a nice pink area rug that feels like walking on clouds, a comfy white couch for the living room, and a brand-new white desk and bookshelf so I can set up a little study area for myself. He buys me a nice, big TV so we can host Addison and Ryan for Double Ryan night, and we pick out a dining table and chairs where we can have dinner when he comes over.
He buys me a new bed—king-sized, in case I wondered if he was planning to stay over—and he even buys Toast a new bed to set up in the living room.
It’s impossible to ignore the fact that he’s setting the place up to my aesthetic tastes, but as if he’s going to be living there with me.
He gets me set up with my own key card to get in the building and into my apartment, and of course, he sets up a key card for himself.
The first night we spend at the apartment, most of the furniture hasn’t been delivered, but the bed has, so we put the new sheets and bedding on it, then we crawl under the warm, fresh blankets.
Naked, of course.
Killian locks his arms around me and pulls me close, then he leans in and kisses me until I forget how wrong it all feels.
Not being there with him, but the double life I feel like we’re living.
Because even when he’s lying in my bed, if I feel like torturing myself, I can pull up Sloane’s social media and flip through pictures of Killian’s handsome face, an easy smile tugging at the lips that were just all over my body as he talks to her father like they’re already family.
I can flip through pictures of them, too. Her showing off her cute new outfit and Killian right beside her, looking like he belongs there.
She shows off a diamond tennis bracelet with him in the background and an implication that he bought it for her as an early Christmas present.
It all makes me want to puke.
Literally.
I put my phone down on the bedside table without even bothering to close the app, then I push back my new blankets and hurry to the bathroom as quickly as I can.
My insides feel shaky, the way they do sometimes right before you throw up. And my stomach definitely feels queasy.
I have got to stop looking at her social media.
I know what I’ll find there.
