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Seriously, the only thing that feels better than this woman cozying up to me is when I’m wrapped in her heat.
“It’s your ‘I want to ravish you look.’”
It’s my turn to laugh.
“Show me around. Tell me about your weekend,” she says, and yeah, I’m wrapped around her little finger because her wish is my command.
I guide her through the luxurious apartment, where no expense was spared, introduce her to Destiny, and then take her upstairs while I tell her about the movies we watched and eating out at Anthony’s.
“Did you know Gabe has a wine cellar?” I ask, transported back to those heated moments.
I’m blathering because I don’t know how to tell her what I really need to say.
She makes a soft, non-committal sound as she glances down at the vibrant backyard from the cozy bedroom.
I slide my hands over her shoulders, relishing the little shiver that courses through her. “What do you think? Will it do?”
“I love it. Gabe did well.”
“Helps to have good friends with spare brownstones sitting around,” I say, not bothering to hide the dry disdain from my voice. “He said no one’s lived here in about two years.”
“That’s a shame.”
I drop a kiss in her hair.
“I’m glad you guys are getting along so well. It makes my heart happy.” She turns to me, pressing a hand over my heart, that bewitching smile on her lips. “This weekend, I kept thinking maybe it was all supposed to work out like this... With the four of us.”
42
KATHERINE
There's a beat of silence.
“I mean,” I amend quickly, “we all sort of jumped into the deep end.”
King especially.
“How are you feeling? I know sharing a partner is...” I lick my lips, searching for the right word. “Unconventional.”
King gets really still, and my heart drops.
Why does my mind immediately go to a worst-case scenario? I retrace my words... getting along so well... four of us...
“Unconventional isn’t bad,” I say because the silence is brutal. The way he’s staring back and forth between my eyes and my lips, looking confused and uncomfortable, makes me uncomfortable.
“Did—did something happen?” All of a sudden, I feel like I’m back in my grandfather’s office, my nervous system on overload, unable to control my runaway anxiety.
I’ve been over the moon all weekend, prancing around Paris with Alex, and King’s been here. He came back for me, and I left him.
True, he said I didn’t need to babysit him. He never has and never will. The world is his playground, and he wouldn’t be the man I admire so much if he were relying on me for entertainment.
“Well, an elevator tried to hold me captive,” he says finally, lips curving up in a smirk.
What?
That’s it?
I mean, that’s terrifying for him, but that’s... I take a steadying breath and remind myself that heart words are hard for him.