Despite the fact that she spent so much time with me. Or that we were becoming friends again and being better about who we were, I didn’t think she could truly forgive me for what I did. I might not have made the photos. I might not have forced her hand. But I had broken her trust and her heart and hadn’t believed her.
And I didn’t know how to change that.
“Hey there,” Myra said as she walked into the house, and dropped to her knees.
In a perfect world, she’d be falling to her knees for something a little more fun. Instead, she grinned and hugged Daisy to her. The puppy wiggled her little butt and lapped at Myra’s chin, while the woman I loved laughed back and pushed our dog down ever so slightly.
And I had just called Daisy, our dog. I hadn’t meant to, even in my head, and I would do my best not to say that out loud. Myra would end up running faster than ever before if I said something along those lines aloud.
I needed to be better. I had to stop focusing on what we used to have and what we could have and focus on what we did have. But that wasn’t going to be easy.
“Hello there. I’m here, too,” I said, mock-pouting.
“I’m sorry.” Myra laughed. “It’s so good to see you, Nate. Now, I need to go back to loving this puppy with all of my heart. Who’s my precious baby?” Myra said before getting a chew toy and playing with Daisy around the living room.
“You know you’re getting a little ridiculous with my dog.”
“I can’t help it. She loves me more.”
I love you, too.
Jesus Christ, I needed to not think those words. Because if I did, I would end up saying them out loud. And Myra would run faster than a coyote chasing a roadrunner.
“So, I ordered in. I hope that’s okay.”
Myra looked up and smiled. “It’s fine. Long project today?”
I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yes, it’s bugging me because I don’t think it’s what I need to write. I think it’s just me.”
“Headaches?” she asked, standing up to come up to me. She put her hands on my chest, kissed me softly, and then stared into my eyes. I knew she was searching for pain markers. And she would probably find them. She frowned again and then reached up to rub my temples. I practically moved into her like a cat wanting to be petted, but I held back any purring or groaning.
Barely.
“I could’ve cooked for you,” she said, and I shook my head, pushing her hair behind her ear.
“No, you didn’t need to. I ordered from our favorite fusion place. So, we’re about to get bulgogi and teriyaki and love it.”
“You know that’s our favorite place because we like the sushi,” she said dryly.
“True, but I can’t do delivered sushi. I know it can be amazing, but it’s weird for me.”
She snorted. “Yes, it’s much better than gas station sushi, but I am particular, as well. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll rub your neck while you play with Daisy.”
“You know, that sounds quite nice.”
“Good, because…get on the floor.”
I raised a brow. “Ordering me around?”
“Always. You know that Daisy’s not allowed on the furniture until she’s a year old, and since you’re going to cuddle her, you need to be on the floor, too.”
“I still don’t understand why she can’t be up there, but Macon told me not to, and therefore, here we are.”
“You are always going to listen to what the vet tells us about your precious baby girl.”
I kissed her hard and then sank to the floor, nipping at her hip as I did.
She moaned but narrowed her eyes at me. “Behave.”
“What if I don’t want to?” I asked and winked.
Daisy, excited that I was sitting with her, barked, wiggled her butt, and then brought me her favorite stuffed cow, Moo Moo. “Thank you,” I said, and Daisy plopped onto my lap and promptly fell asleep.
Myra sat behind me and began rubbing my shoulders. I leaned into her, the puppy snoring on my lap, and felt like I could do this forever. Like this was it—everything I’d ever wanted.
“Feel better?” she asked, her voice low.
“Mmm. Thank you.”
“I hate that you have headaches. That I can’t help beyond this.”
I looked up at her, then took her hand and kissed her palm. She gave me a small smile, and it felt like the best thing in the world. “You being here? It’s better than anything else you could’ve done. Usually, I deal with these things alone—or now, with Daisy. But I like you being here in my space, next to me. Helping me.”
I wanted to say more, but I knew if I did, it would be a mistake. Too much, too fast. Thankfully, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” Myra wiggled around me so she could get up.
“I already paid,” I called out.
“Okay,” she said, and I shook my head.
I knew Myra had way more money than I did. She would always have more. It wasn’t a problem for me, though, and I didn’t mind that she sometimes paid for us to go out. However, she occasionally got a little affronted over the idea that I wanted to pay.
It was just a thing, though. We would alternate like any couple good at finding balance.
Only I didn’t know what that would be for us.
“It smells delicious.” Myra walked into the living room. I stood up, Daisy in my arms, and then took her outside to take care of her business. After, I put her in her octagon, where she promptly fell back asleep.
“She already ate dinner. Now, it’s time for us.”
Myra’s eyes darkened, and I kissed her again. “Food first,” she said. “I’m starving.”
“It’s like you knew exactly where my mind was going,” I laughed.
“I always know where your mind is going, Nathan Brady.”
“I am sweet and innocent. I have no idea what you mean.”
Myra snorted and sat down next to me, leaning between my legs as the two of us divvied up our food, plates piled high with bulgogi and broccoli and teriyaki chicken.
“This smells so good,” Myra repeated. “Either that, or the fact that I skipped lunch probably makes me think everything smells amazing.”
I frowned. “You skipped lunch?”
“Yes. I was stressed out over a simple phone call, and it took me forever to get into my project. But then I was in the middle of it, and I was having a good day after that. In the zone. Lots of painting.”
“What phone call?” I asked, tapping her lip with my fork. She opened, and I slid the chicken inside. She frowned.
“I can feed myself.”
“It’s hotter when I feed you.”
“You say that, but now there’s teriyaki on my chin, isn’t there?”
She narrowed her eyes, and I shrugged and reached for the napkin to clean her up.
“There. All gone.”
“But now I’m all sticky,” she said, and I groaned.
“Stop saying random sexy things to distract me. What was the phone call about?”
“I just said I was sticky. That’s not sexy.”
“Do I need to make you sticky so you could see how sexy it is?” I asked, raising a single brow.