Grace turns and focuses her eyes on me in expectation. There’s no going back now. I can’t say what I said and then chicken out. I zero in on her, admiring how beautiful the woman I’m in love with is. Her strawberry-blond hair is in some type of French twist, exposing her radiant face. A light-pink shimmer is glossed over her lips, making me want to taste it.
Grace is everything I want but what I don’t deserve.
That’s what my head has always told me.
I was stupid for listening to it.
Why did I think I don’t deserve her?
I don’t come from money. Grace gives no fucks about that.
I don’t have a fancy-ass college degree. Grace has never judged me for it.
I don’t come from her world. Grace has never said she wants differently.
Not once has Grace given me a reason to believe I’m not good enough for her, so why am I holding myself back? I’m tired of being scared—because I am good enough, damn it.
I’m a good man who’s taken care of himself when no one else would.
I’m a helping hand to anyone, even those who don’t deserve it.
When the day comes, I’ll do anything for Grace’s baby.
“Grace.” My voice hitches with emotion when I say her name.
I advance a step, bringing myself closer to her. She needs to see the honesty in my eyes—a testament that she’s everything I’ll ever want. I can hear my heart thrumming in my chest from the combination of my fear and excitement.
I’m going to spill my heart out to her.
This could result in rejection.
A lost friendship.
But it needs to be done.
If Grace turns me down, I’ll still be her friend.
Still be a call away for anything she needs.
We make eye contact, and I scramble for the right words.
I can’t fuck this up.
Grace stares at me, unsure of where I’m going with this.
If I’ll say what I need to say.
Hell, I’m playing this by ear.
Thirty minutes ago, I was sitting in a club, having no idea this would happen.
Reaching out, I cup her face with both my hands. “I’m in love with you.”
I don’t want to waste time with bullshit words.
I’m not good with them.
Knowing me, I’d fuck them up.
What’s a better way to explain yourself to someone than to say those words?
I love you.
It says so much.
She squints at me, fluttering her eyelashes while processing what I said.
“What?” Her voice is shaky.
My body relaxes as I repeat myself, “I’m in love with you.”
I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
My truth is finally released.
Her chin trembles underneath my hands. “I love you too, Finn.”
I’d dreamed about this moment happening countless times. It went differently. The excitement I’d hoped for was nonexistent. She said the words I’d been dying to hear, but they were said with the enthusiasm of someone finding out their vacation had been canceled.
There’s no excitement.
Yet it’s also not rejection.
It’s … indifference?
My throat constricts, and I pull away as if my touch were no longer welcome. The heaviness of reality consumes me.
Grace winces, her eyes squeezing shut at the loss of me. “I’m sure this isn’t the reaction you expected.”
I step back. “I’m not sure what I expected.”
Her eyes are watery when she opens them. “Finn,” she says my name as if it pains her. “This has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you.”
The high I felt for vomiting out my truth crumbles.
I rub my chin with one hand. “I think us admitting we’re in love with each other has something to do with me.”
Her face is expressionless. “If this were months ago, it’d be different.”
“How?”
“I’m pregnant!” she shrieks, gesturing to her belly. “With another man’s baby. That changes everything.”
“You think I give a shit about that?” I rush out before allowing myself to polish my response. I pound my hand against my chest. “That changes nothing. I don’t love you any less. I’m telling you I love you as you are—everything you are. I’m done playing pretend. I want this”—I indicate between us—“to be real. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She gawks at me, her mouth hanging open.
I lose a breath when she steps closer, stands on her tiptoes, and presses her lips against mine.
Everything happens so fast.
I curl my arm around her waist and drag her close.
Now that I have her, I’m never letting her go.
“Grace,” I whisper against her soft lips, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. To be able to do this.”
It’s my turn to kiss her.
Our kiss starts out impulsive.
It turns hot.
Hungry.
Desperate.
I slip my tongue between her lips and into her mouth, and the taste of strawberry lip gloss hits me. Grace sighs as our lips caress each other’s. Our mouths stay connected as I walk us to the couch. I fall back onto it and pull her onto my lap. My dick immediately hardens when she straddles me. I grip her hips and bite into her lower lip before raining kisses down her jaw and neck.
Goose bumps pop up along her soft skin in the wake of my lips. My excitement explodes when she shudders at my touch. Bunching up her dress to her hips, I shove my hands underneath it, no longer able to hold back the urge to touch her.
To touch her the ways I’ve wanted to for years.
She rocks against me and whispers, “More.”
My eyes widen, as I’m momentarily shocked, and I give her what she wants.
More.
Using a single finger, I slip her panties to the side and dip my finger inside.
“Shit, baby,” I hiss. “You’re soaked.”
“For you,” she says, encircling her arms around my neck. “Just for you.”
To help me, she tilts her waist back, and I slide my finger between her folds.
I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
She writhes above me and gasps when I thrust a finger inside her.
Her pussy is a tight wall against my single finger.
Will she be comfortable taking my cock?
I halt, stopping myself at the thought.
I’m going too fast.
She loses a breath and stares at me, wide-eyed, when I slowly draw my finger out of her. My chest heaves in and out, and I drop my head back, resting it against the cushion.
“Shit, Grace,” I groan. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” she slowly asks. “Why’d you stop?”
I raise my head to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to rush this with you. I didn’t tell you I loved you to sleep with you.”
She needs to know my intentions for baring myself to her wasn’t to have sex.
I rest my hand on her shaky thigh.
“Is it because I’m pregnant?”
Her question shocks me into silence.
I’ve never slept with a pregnant woman before. Not because I find them unattractive. But this is Grace. I want her any way I can have her.
Before I can say she’s lost her mind and her pregnancy has nothing to do with me stopping us, she whispers, “I know I’m bigger. A pregnant body might not exactly be a turn-on … especially with it not being your baby.”