I kiss him so hard I swear my lips will be bruised for years, and I won’t even care; I’ll stare into the mirror and see the markings and go that was the moment King was no longer the boy I married, but the man I wanted to live with.
I know Roman’s standing at the door.
But I’m not thinking about Roman.
My heart is sad for Roman, but right now, I’m King’s, and the very thought of having a countdown for our moments together makes me want to get sick.
“Let me be with you,” I say between kisses. “Tonight. Tomorrow—let me.”
It’s like King has no words. He grabs my cami and pulls it over my head. His hands immediately run down my shoulders, my breasts in awe and wonder. It’s impossible to look away from him, and I don’t want to.
Our eyes are locked as he pulls my shorts down then tosses his own shirt off to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.
“Bummer,” I tease. “No hammer.”
He bursts out laughing and then starts shoving down his black briefs. “Doesn’t mean I still can’t nail you.”
I laugh so hard I have tears coming down as we tumble in the sheets, I feel his smile against my neck, and I never want this moment to end.
This moment where the King is set free.
It’s everything, and even though I can feel hot against my thigh, I just want him to keep laughing, so I push him further. “Show me how hard, big boy.”
“Was probably a carpenter in another life.”
“Sexy.”
“So fucking sexy, even had my own tool belt.”
“Ah, did it come with the plastic tools they gave you at Fisher-Price or—”
He tickles my sides, his lips on my neck feel warm, his teeth graze my skin up and down the side until goosebumps rise on every inch of skin I have. I can’t contain my gasps as he tastes me, leaving no part of me unloved or untouched.
“Fuck Fisher-Price,” he says after another lingering kiss on my neck. He moves his lips to my ear. “Though, even if I had plastic… tools, I could still rock your world.”
“I believe you,” I say.
“Meh, I need to prove it, I think.” He flips me onto my stomach and thrusts into me from behind, then picks me up onto my knees, so I’m facing the very wall that leads to the door where Roman waits.
I close my eyes.
I grip the side of the headboard, and I close my eyes as the sound of us having sex fills the room.
It was so easy for him to slide into me because I was so ready for him and have been all day, despite what’s been going on. At first, I thought something was seriously wrong with me, but what if it’s right? What if all of this is right? I arch as he suddenly pulls me back onto his knees, moving me up and down, doing all the work while I reap all the benefits, and there are so many benefits with that cock of his. I feel him everywhere, so deep, so strong, so perfect, like his body knows exactly where to touch mine to drive me crazy.
“It’s too much,” I say as he goes deeper.
“Never.” He holds me there until my body spasms around him so hard I see stars. I feel him release inside me, and I have a lingering thought of—what if.
What if?
And I smile.
Minutes later, I’m cleaned up and lying next to him, only to hear a knock on the door. I scramble to it and open it expecting to see Roman, but it’s Mo on the other side, King’s mom.
“He wanted you to have this.” She hands me a note. “I don’t know why. As you can see, it’s been a rough twenty-four hours, but…” She swipes under her eyes; they’re black from lack of sleep, and she looks gaunt in her sweatshirt.
“What is it?” I ask.
She smiles sadly. “All I know is he said that you would know.”
“Okay.” I take the note. “Thank you.”
She nods and then walks down the hall.
Roman’s standing watch to the right, staring straight ahead while I hold the note in my hand. I truly don’t know what to say.
He speaks first.
“It was harder tonight.”
“What?”
“It was harder tonight…”
“What do you mean?”
He turns to me, his eyes fall. “He made you laugh.”
“What?”
“I would prefer he fuck you and leave the laughter to me. But he made you laugh over and over again, and all I kept thinking was—I wish it was just sex… it’s not just sex anymore… is it?” He doesn’t wait for my answer; he slowly pushes me back into the room and closes the door. “Either way,” he whispers through the door. “I’ll always love you, the best way I can, sometimes that means from a distance.”
Tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks as I touch the door with my fingers. The old me would have run out and told him he was wrong.
The version I’m living in now hesitates then slides down to the floor and cries.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Knights! The gift of freedom is yours by right. But the home we seek resides not in some distant land. It’s in us! And in our actions on this day! If this be our destiny, then so be it. But let history remember that as free men, we chose to make it so.” —King Arthur
King
I wake up to an empty bed and frown when I see Del lying on the floor with a blanket and pillow by the door. Did she sleepwalk? Was she angry? I search my brain for any sort of indication she was upset last night and come up with nothing.
I walk over, scoop her up into my arms and place her on the bed when I notice her clenching something in her hands.
Slowly, I unfold it and read it.
And I wish I hadn’t.
I wish so many things in that moment.
No matter what you love him the best you can, and you tell him when he’s being a little shit. This is your life now, but it can be beautiful; you just have to let it. I was going to make a toast at your wedding, one that was clever, funny, that made sense, but that look in your eyes, I’m not stupid. I know why you’re doing this. We all do. But I hope you can come to love the man at your side and remember everything he’s sacrificed in order to become who he is. Now you need to rise up into who you are as well. Be who you were born to be, that’s my wedding wish for you, and that’s my gift. Not a shiny house or new car or fancy vacation. My gift is that even if this was arranged from the beginning, you would have each other and realize the joy and purpose in having something to fight for and someone fighting at your side.
I fold it back up. I try not to cry, and I wonder if this is my dad’s last blessing to the Family. Had something happened, my mom would have woken me up, right?
Everything is so fucking confusing that I truly don’t know what to do. I have no clue where to look, at my cousins, at the whole point that someone wants to kill me and nearly did the same with my parents?
If I was reading this book, I’d probably toss it against the wall and be like, what else can go wrong? And who the hell’s going to help me fix this?
My stomach feels sick, my chest heavy, my heart not beating the way it’s supposed to; despite the guilt I have that it’s still beating when I have no idea if my dad is doing anything beyond just attempting to keep himself alive.
I hang my head in my hands, the folded paper falls to the floor.