“Me and you. And the kids. Picnic in the garden, tomorrow?”
Her eyes widen. “Really? I mean, that sounds great.”
“Awesome.” And I am really pleased. The thought of a weekend without her is… strange. Uncomfortable.
Nearly unbearable.
Jesus, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with her. I keep trying to pull back, but I can’t.
I’m sort of trying to date her. Which is ridiculous. Fucking stupid.
But she’s smiling. She looks happy.
Like I feel.
And although this is a familiar dance, one I tried years back with Emma, although it should feel familiar… it doesn’t. It feels brand new. Totally fucking different.
Totally fucking terrifying.
But I’m not a man to back away from a challenge, and I’m already in too deep to make it to shore, so I might as well just keep swimming.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Octavia
Jeez, that kiss… it burned through me like a wildfire, almost brought me to my knees.
It doesn’t matter how hard I fight this attraction. Like a moth to the dancing flame, I’m always drawn to him.
Even when he’s so worried.
Especially when he’s so worried. God help me, but I’ve grown fond of that brooding expression on his ruggedly handsome face, and the need to take away his pain is all-consuming.
Consuming me, my thoughts, my dreams. He stars in those dreams, night after night, his muscular, inked body covering mine, his cock pushing into me, filling me up. His mouth drinking in my moans and cries, his arms bracketing me, keeping me safe as I come again and again, freefalling.
Believing this moment with him will last.
The bus drops me off on the main street, and I climb down, taking a minute to redo my ponytail and straighten my dress.
I don’t think Matt realized I left earlier than usual, or maybe he did and thought it was because I’d stayed the night and wanted to check in on my mom and siblings.
But the truth is that I want to get to Jasper’s Garage before it closes.
Talk to Ross.
Sure, I’d rather be prying out my own teeth with rusty pliers, but if this is his new brand of bullying—making the people around me suffer just to get to me, well…
Well, he’s succeeding. And this can’t go on. His stupid pranks made my school years unbearable, but he never went this far.
Not sure how to make him stop, though.
Better go in the talk to him before I overthink this, right?
…right. Because planning ahead might sound sensible, but not when you’re walking into an impossible situation armed only with anger and hope.
Then you’re better off not thinking at all.
At least that’s the pep talk I give myself