Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
My cousin laughs.
Fucker.
He knows exactly how long it’s been.
And the reason for it.
Holland rolls her eyes. “Behave, Bridger. Or next time, the kids are babysitting you.”
I take a moment to steady myself, trying to rein all the emotion back in. “Besides, how can Lilah move out when Waffles is just getting comfortable?”
Bridger frowns. “Who’s Waffles?”
“Our kitten,” Lilah says with a small smile. “Steele brought her home a few weeks ago.”
Bridger looks between us with interest. “You two have a cat? How’s that going to work down the road?”
“Shared custody,” I say smoothly. “Weekends and holidays are negotiable.”
Bridger whistles. “Wow. You two really are doing this whole thing backward.”
The table bursts into laughter, and the conversation veers off into lighter territory, but the tension between me and Lilah doesn’t fade.
It continues to simmer, low and steady, thickening in the air with every glance, every touch.
And it’s getting harder to hold back.
After dessert, Bridger’s phone buzzes. One glance at the screen has him muttering an apology before answering. A moment later, he slips the cell into his pocket with a faint smile.
“Sitter’s checking in,” he says, rising to his feet. “Looks like it’s time for us to head home.”
Holland stands as well. “Thank you for dinner. We needed a night like this.”
There’s a round of hugs and goodbyes, easy laughter, and promises to get together again soon. Then Bridger slings an arm around Holland’s waist, and the two disappear into the night, leaving behind the echo of a perfect evening.
Lilah moves to the railing and gazes out over the skyline, her hands resting lightly on the iron bar. The breeze toys with the hem of her dress as her long blonde hair slips over her shoulders.
She looks so fucking gorgeous it hurts. An ache coils low in my gut. All I want to do is slide my arms around her from behind and press my lips to the gentle curve of her neck, finally confessing everything I’ve kept buried for years.
I keep telling myself she needs time.
That I have to be patient.
But I don’t know how much longer I can do that.
Because I’m scared my cousin’s right. That if I don’t step up soon, someone else will. Some other guy will see the amazing qualities I do, and he’ll say what I haven’t, and take her before I ever get the chance.
I can’t let that happen.
Not again.
I’m being pulled in two directions.
Because I know the truth deep in my bones. Once I have her, I’ll never let go. There’s no pulling back. No pretending we’re just friends.
I want Lilah Monroe.
Not just for tonight.
Not just for tomorrow.
But for every damn day after.
27
LILAH
The hushed sounds of the rooftop fade behind me as I step toward the railing, drawn to the glow of city lights dancing across the water. Lake Michigan stretches out before me like a black mirror. The cool wind kisses my skin, wafting over my arms and sneaking down the open back of my dress, making me shiver.
I don’t hear his footsteps.
It’s more that I feel him.
That unmistakable presence that’s steady, solid, all heat and quiet power coming up behind me. My body reacts before he even lays a hand on me.
When his arms wrap around my waist, I let myself melt into his embrace.
Into him.
He’s so much bigger than me. All hard lines and muscle. He’s a fortress at my back, a shield that blocks out the world.
Devon never felt like this. He was leaner, sharper in his movements. Always careful. Controlled. Measured.
But Steele?
Steele doesn’t ask for space.
He simply takes it.
Every gesture, every touch, every unspoken word says mine.
And I love it.
I love the way I feel when he’s touching me, as if I’m something worth holding on to.
My fingers drift to his forearms, tracing the thick cords of muscle below his rolled-up sleeves. I’m hyperaware of every inch of him. The scent of his cologne, the heat of his body, the steady thrum of energy rolling off him like a storm about to break.
I feel safe and protected.
He dips his head and brushes a kiss across my neck. The touch is worshipful. That’s all it takes for a wave of heat to ripple through me, starting low in my belly before spreading outward.
“Have you come to a decision?” he asks.
My pulse throbs in my wrists and between my legs.
I close my eyes for a second, trying to steady the rush of thoughts. I’ve been wrestling with this answer for days. Second-guessing myself. Worrying about what would happen when it inevitably ended.
But right now, in this moment?
There’s no question as to what I want.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He stills behind me. The breath he draws into his lungs is sharp and audible, full of disbelief and something else entirely.
Relief, maybe?
His body tenses, wound tight like a spring on the verge of release. I feel the barely-contained hunger and emotion.