“We can negotiate on the driving.” I kiss him, just once, and then pull back. “Wanna know the best part?”
“What?”
“I can sleep with whoever I want.”
Do you notice the way his expression goes from playful to fucking pissed in like a second? “You will not be fucking anyone,but me.”
“We’re dating, aren’t we?”
“Fucking right we are.” And then guess who makes an appearance? His hard cock, like hey there, don’t forget me. Pfft. Like I could. Shade bites my neck, marking his territory. “I might even knock you up.”
My heart soars but does he not realize Camden and Tiller are out here? Knowing Shade, he probably doesn’t give a fuck.
I slap his forehead. “Um, no. You won’t. I’m on the pill, and it’s my only responsible trait.”
“That’s not true. You keep me in line just fine,” he points out. “Give yourself some credit for how amazing you are at being a personal assistant.”
“I was pretty fucking good, wasn’t I?”
“Kept me in line, but seriously, wouldn’t you want a little girl with wild blonde curls and my eyes?”
“What’s wrong with my eyes? We both have blue. . . .”
He searches my face, his smile damn near beaming. “Yeah, but my eyelashes are longer, and she’s gotta have something of mine.”
“True.”
Guess what? Tiller’s listening to all this and he looks like he wants to fucking vomit. I can’t blame him. How’d this conversation even get started?
Oh, right. I’m a California girl now and we’re dating. And now we’re making out.
Do you remember when I said Shade’s life would forever be altered by the day Rhya took her life? Life, love, everything about him would never be the same, because of her.
He loves differently, but selflessly.
Do you also remember when I said suicide is selfish? My theory that the only selfish part about suicide I had found to be true was the way I’d never found the girl I was before Asher?
I don’t think that’s entirely true anymore. I think I found her again, in the arms of a man who’s experience the same loss.
Do you see those two people in the hot tub? Not Tiller and Camden. . . the two holding onto one another, loving without regrets? He’s twirling and tightening his fist in wild curls, whispering, “I love you,” and she’s falling for consuming rebellious baby blues.
Love is never the same twice, but fuck if it isn’t worth soaring through the air for.
