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I’d been almost fucking overwhelmed with the urge to scoot down in the bed, to hook an arm around her, to pull her onto my chest.
But I couldn’t do that.
She’d never allow that.
And, quite frankly, I didn’t understand the urge to do it.
So I did the only thing I could think of in that situation.
I got up.
I got dressed.
And I left.
Because that was the arrangement.
That was what I’d agreed to.
Quite frankly, I wasn’t sure I could take having her wake up, seeing me still there, and demanding to know what the fuck I was doing there still.
It already felt a lot like rejection each time she left a hotel room before I did. I didn’t need her outright kicking me out of one.
So I left on my own.
And hadn’t heard from her since.
It wasn’t unusual, necessarily.
There’d been times when we’d go months without having a meet-up, depending on hers or my schedule.
Still, I’d gotten up in my head about it since then.
Like maybe it was over.
For good this time.
Shit like that.
And when I got up in my head about it, my mood started to take a nosedive.
It was weird shit.
I’d been choosing to try to avoid and ignore it since then.
But now here she was.
In my clubhouse.
Looking softer and sweeter than usual.
Looking like she belonged there.
Holding Dell and Judge’s baby.
Giving me some weird-ass fucking thoughts.
Almost as if sensing those thoughts, Nyx’s head turned on the couch cushion, and her gaze landed directly on me, those stupidly pretty gray eyes giving me a breathless sensation in my chest.
