Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

His fingers moved to my earlobe and tugged gently. “I’m sorry if we ruined your underwear.”

I giggled softly. “It was worth it.”

“Yes, but it’s not going to happen again.”

“Okay,” I said, yawning and smacking my lips. I twisted my neck to prop my chin on his sternum and look up at him. His eyes were closed, and the television glare flashed over his face. So handsome.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

“So handsome?”

“Oh.” I bit my lip. “That could get to be a bad habit, thinking out loud.”

“I think I’d like it if you did. It’d save me a hell of a lot of grief.”

I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. “You’re exaggerating.”

He just smiled and closed his eyes again, humming his satisfaction as he took a deep breath.

“He cheated on my mom.”

His eyes opened immediately. “Your dad?”

I nodded my chin into his chest. “He told me yesterday.”

“He kept it from you?”

“To protect me, he says. Because he didn’t want me to go live with her.”

“How do you feel about that?”

I crossed an arm over his chest and replaced my chin so our eyes were level. “I’m not happy that he lied to me, but I guess I get why he did it. Strangely, it doesn’t make me feel any more sympathetic toward my mom.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Probably because your issues with her aren’t just about that night.”

“Should I start calling you Dr. David?”

“It has a nice ring to it.”

“She agreed to more alimony not to fight my dad for custody. She always told me it was because of the accident, and she couldn’t afford to lose.”

“Do you think you would’ve gone to live with her if you’d known?”

“I didn’t want to live with her because I blamed her for the divorce. She was jealous, she drank and I was a little bit scared of her. But if I’d known it wasn’t her fault . . . I’m not sure.”

“I think most girls would choose their mother in a divorce, regardless of circumstances. That’s why I think this goes deeper than that. The night at my apartment, when she called and made you cry, you said she doesn’t love you.”

“I did?” I tried to recall the time between the phone call and our bath, but it was hazy.

“Yes. A parent is supposed to love their child unconditionally. If you never felt that from her . . . well, it’d explain a lot. That, in addition to her behavior, could be a large part of why it’s difficult for you to open up. If your own mother doesn’t love you for who you are, why would anyone else?”

“That sounds so sad,” I mused.

“It is sad. And completely fucked up. But you’re amazing in spite of it. You should be proud.”

“I don’t know about that considering my actions lately, but I am grateful. I never knew it could be like this. I was happy and content before I met you. I loved, and I was loved. But I never experienced this . . . this desire to give myself over to another person, wholly and completely without holding anything back. It’s all new to me. I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t fought for me.”

His hand stroked my hair as he looked at me thoughtfully. “You say that like I had a choice.”

“I love you.”

He smiled. “I look forward to hearing that often.”

“I’m sorry it took so long to say it.”

“I don’t care. I never had any doubt.”

“Never?” I asked, fighting my own smile.

I laughed when the corner of his lip twitched. “Well, most of the time.”

CHAPTER 19

WITH A RED PEN shoved behind my ear, I hunched over the work I’d spread out on the tiny seatback tray table. I looked up when I felt David’s eyes on me.

He smiled. “Hey.”

I shifted so my back was to the window. He was reading the Business section of the Tribune, which he folded in his lap. “I like your glasses,” I said.

He studied me a moment. “The better to see you with.”

“They’re sexy.”

It hadn’t taken much convincing for the airline to make a space for him on the full flight and, despite my objections, get us both upgraded to first class. I implied afterward that the conversation would’ve gone differently if he’d been talking to a man, but he insisted it was only because he was a good customer.

His glasses were definitely sexy. And when his hand reached over and squeezed my thigh, my stomach dropped in just the right way. I nodded toward the front of the plane. He shook his head.

“Why not?” I asked.

“I’m not taking you in some disgusting airplane bathroom,” he said just above a whisper.

I stuck out my lower lip. “It doesn’t bother me. It might be fun.”

He eyed me dubiously. “I’m starting to worry that you’re only interested in me for sex.”

I laughed too loudly and shrank down in my seat. “Would that bother you?” He didn’t laugh but continued to glare at me. “You’re really good at it,” I pointed out.

He shook his head and turned back to his article.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked.

He looked at me blankly before removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “I’m not discussing this on an airplane.”

“Geez, what do you have against airplanes?”

“Nothing, it’s just not very . . .” He paused to glance over his shoulder at the aisle. “Private,” he finished.

“I’m just curious. It’s something most couples discuss before they move in together.”