Page 67 of All Your Lies

I take another step in retreat; one he takes as a challenge as he follows my step.

“Make no mistake, his rotting corpse can be lying on the bed, and I’d still fuck you right next to him.”

“You’re sick!”

“Never said I was well, baby.”

Jesus, I’m going to marry a fucking psycho with a killing fetish.

He extends his hand out to me. “Now come shower with me.”

“Not a chance in hell, you freaking psycho! Wash your sins off and meet me downstairs. Maybe I’ll still be here, maybe not.” I shrug.

“If you run, I’ll chase you, and we both know how much my piccolo angello likes that.” His atrocious nickname throws me off as he flashes me a wicked smile, which makes my pulse jump and my core flutter.

My brain needs to have a serious talk with my body.

“Fuck you!” I flip him off. His laughter mixes with my loud steps as I stomp down the hallway.

twenty-one

Gage

Descending the stairs, I quirk a brow as the aroma of eggs and bacon fills the air.

My steps are measured as I come around the corner and see Alexa. One of her delicate hands confidently wields a spatula, while the other casually rests on her white apron-draped hip as the sound of food sizzles.

Where the hell did she find an apron, and is she wearing one of my black shirts?

I lean against the wall, watching as she rifles through the drawers, the wood creaking softly under her touch. Totally unaware of my gaze, she absentmindedly blows on a lock of dark brown hair that escaped her messy bun resting on the crown of her head. She’s never been more beautiful than right now. To have her in our house is a sight I’ve always dreamed of and longed for.

I yearn to trail behind her, my arms encircling her waist, while I plant kisses on her neck. And more, I want her to lean back against me with her head on my chest and a smile on her face.

I shift to more of a standing position as she gazes up at me.

“Don’t stop on my account. Looks like you made yourself right at home.”

“What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours,” she mocks.

“I’m glad you’re finally conceding to your reality.”

She scoffs. “Like fuck I am. I was hungry.”

Observing the island, I see she not only made herself a plate but also prepared one for me. She remembered my dislike for runny egg yolk, so she scrambled them instead of cooking them sunny side up like the other plate. A smirk plays on my lips as I meet her gaze again. Instantly, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

“And I see you’re already doing your wifely duties.”

“I’m an equal. Not a fucking maid, servant, or secretary made just for you.”

“I’m kidding. You know I see you as more than that. You’re my partner. My other half.”

Her head drops to the counter. “We’re here to discuss different matters.”

“They’re interconnected. We should discuss everything.”

“Oh, goody.”

“I’m not the worst choice for a husband.”