It was after a solid two minutes that he replied, “I meant it.”
THIRTY-FIVE
CHRISTIAN
With the door wide open,Hasan and Osama took that as their invitation to walk inside.
Being CEO behind Osama was more fun than doing shit in front of everyone. It was honestly damn boring too.
“They got rid of the vending machines in front of my office,” Osama took out a seat and threw himself into it. He’d finally cut his hair. Gone were the long locks and in replacement was a short, neat haircut that suited him. “Fucking rude if you asked me.”
“No one did,” Hasan gruffed out and took the seat opposite of Osama. Then he turned to look at me, making it a point to show me his watch. “I only have fifteen minutes before I need to head back.”
“It’s not like I invited you,” I muttered into the teacup of cold green tea. “The door is right there. You can take your ass and go.”
“And leave you to deal with this dude?” Hasan pointedat Osama who was looking back and forth between us completely confused.
It had been three weeks since I started sleeping in the same bed as Adelaide.
My feelings were growing, and it felt like maybe hers were too.
I loved every minute with her. At night, she’d sit on my vanity chair and do her nightly routine while I asked her about her day. Her nose would scrunch up and she’d look at me like she didn’t want to tell me, but then she’d spill it. From Starlight—although, I already knew about whatever was going on there—to personal activities.
She hadn’t slept naked since the first time, which should have kept my dick under control but every night when she got into the covers, I could feel her sexy heat calling to me and it took every bit of patience in me to get up, walk to the bathroom, and jerk myself off to the sound of her voice. It was dirty and wrong, but it felt fucking good.
Adelaide would perch her laptop in the space between us and put on Bridgerton. I didn’t know what the hell was going on most of the time because I was focused on her and the softness of her mouth and the way she’d tuck her bottom lip into it. And when she’d release it, her lip would be wet and juicy, and it took every inch of control not to kiss her.
We didn’t talk about sleeping together more thanjustsleeping together, but God, I wanted to rip her shirt off when she stepped out of the bathroom in her flimsy tank tops or when she got ready for work in her dresses. I didn’t know if her outfits channelled what she felt, but she was back to wearing those personable dresses. I loved her in them, plus her tits always looked fucking amazing.
Hell, she looked fucking amazing in general.
Withandwithout clothes.
We hadn’t discussed about me wanting to love her either or her confession almost two months ago. They lingered between us like exclusive rumours the world knew about, but we’d rather stay in our bubble and keep it between us—ourselves, hidden way too deep down. Honestly, I didn’t mind since it allowed me to think about us. About what I wanted.
I wanted to drag her to me and kiss her and tell her I loved her every goddamn day.
Super fucking simple, yep.
It had been tormenting, spending years loving her and wishing her happiness, when my happiness began and ended with her.
I fucking wish someone had smacked me across the head when I broke up with her.
“Hello?” Osama threw gum wrapper at my face and stared like he didn’t just act like a fucking five-year-old. “What’s with your ugly ass?”
“Do you guys not have jobs?” I asked while throwing the wrapper back at him because I, also, was a fucking five-year-old around them.
“We’re on edge,” Hasan straightened himself. “The party is next week, and we don’t know how you’re gonna get the file.”
“Your dad and Eda are doing nothing which is fucking scary on its own.”
I was planning on telling Adelaide.
Soon.
There was never a right time to tell her.
Last night was a good time.
