Of course, Cain already knew where I lived.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Patience and persistence went hand in hand.
There weren’t many occurrences where I didn’t get exactly what I wanted. I worked hard for everything I had and was persistent in pursuing whatever I had my sights set on until the tables turned in my favor.
Pursuing Rose was no different. I knew I’d work tirelessly to win her favor again.
My patience came because it had to. Rose wouldn’t let me in easily, and I’d made peace with that. It’d take effort on my part toshowher my intentions and earn her trust back.
It was no secret she didn’t trust me as far as she could throw me.
It’s why I forced myself to give her time, even though it went against my nature to do so. I knew I needed to tread lightly and continue to prove myself to her for as long as it took.
Rose laid in my arms, her black shirt soft against my bare chest. My fingers brushed her arm lazily, the room silent while we took our time waking up.
Last night when I brought her home, I gave her exactly what she needed, which was sleep. The peace that washed over her face when she crawled into her bed showed me how much she truly needed to rest.
The stress was eating her alive, and the heaviness of the week had been weighing on her. She fell asleep just moments after her head hit the pillow.
I hadn’t bothered to ask if I could stay the night—I just did. While her eyes fluttered closed, I stripped down to my briefs, climbed in beside her, and fell asleep too.
Waking up next to Rose was quickly becoming my new favorite thing.
“So, I think we need to have a conversation.” She broke the silence, shifting her head to look at me.
I wasn’t sure what conversation she was referring to, but I was eager to find out. Nodding my head, I said, “I’m all ears.”
“I’m not sure what your expectations are, but I want to lay it out there that I’m not into the typical relationship thing.”
“I’m not asking you for anything, Rose. I’ll take you anyway I can have you, so long as you’re mine.”
Her eyes burned with intensity. I could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the questions sitting at the tip of her tongue.
“I’m not ashamed to tell you I’m in love with you,” I continued. “I’ve been in love with you since we first met—I was just too immature to admit it, let alone do anything about it.”
“You can’t possib—” she started, but I silenced her words, smashing my lips to hers. A small whimper strained from her mouth into mine, and I deepened the kiss, only relenting when I was sure she’d let me finish.
“You think I can’t possibly still love you after all this time, but you’re wrong. I may have pushed it aside and hid it from view to get through the years that didn't have you in them, but it was never gone. Not completely. It’s always been you, Rose.” I pulled her hand to my chest, flattening her palm over my heart. “The only reason this thing has kept beating is because I hoped one day you’d come back to me and give me another shot. The chance I don’t necessarily deserve, but will never stop trying to earn.”
My words made my heart unsteady with racing palpitations. Most women would have become putty after a declaration like that, but Rose was no ordinary woman. Instead, she laid in my arms and assessed me with hesitation.
After several minutes, she argued. “And if I’m not ready to give you another shot?”
Her tone had a ring of airiness to it, like she was being playful without actually showing the playful side of her.
Wanting to draw it out more, I shrugged. “I could just kidnap you and hold you here against your will, if you prefer.”
She laughed jubilantly, then pushed against my chest. “Oh, how very beastly of you, Cain! You could never kidnap me. I have friends who’d come looking for me.”
“Who? That police officer friend of yours?” A smirk pulled at my lips, but I tried to keep a firm tone of voice, despite wanting to laugh with her.
“He’s a lieutenant, and yes, Noah would come looking for me, absolutely.”
“Ha!” I barked a laugh, my hand reaching around to her hip. Rolling her body, I positioned her so she was straddling me. She braced her hands on my shoulders, her long chocolate hair curtaining to one side. I schooled my features, and with as much seriousness as I could muster, told her darkly, “I could smite him and he’d be dead before he even found you.”
“Smite him? You’d smite him?” She laughed so hard there were tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, and she dabbed at them with her fingers. Through the laughter she added, “What are you, a character out of some B-rated fairytale? A medieval henchman? Who the hell says smite?”
