“I don’t understand why she didn’t talk to me.”
“You haven’t really talked to her. Have you ever wondered over the last year where your relationship was headed?” Bizzy presses, laying her hand on my arm and dragging my attention from the sky.
“That’s why I wanted us to move in together. It’s time.”
“Slow, slow, slow boat,” Shaw mumbles, this time pissing me off.
“I’m sick of you saying that! My timeline is a hell of a lot different than yours.”
“Maybe that’s true,” Bizzy squeezes my wrist, “but while you were taking your time, her brain was filling up with resistance and insignificance.”
“I’m done being the sensible one.” I drain my glass.
“What are you going to do?”
“Everything,” is my only response.
“I dig this new Mathis,” Grace chirps from the backseat.
Nick shoots me a glance, rolling his eyes.
“Not sure there’s anything new about me.”
“Oh, yes, there is. I can’t wait to hear what happens.”
“Sweet Peach, you need to settle down.”
“Nope, not going to happen. I know the stories of when Shaw showed up in Charlotte, and we both know what happened when you surprised me in Greece. Those reunions were hot, but I have a feeling this is going to be smokin’.”
“Jesus.” Nick groans, paralleling into a spot and turning to me. “You think there is any way you can muzzle Claire, so I don’t have to hear a play by play of your reunion?”
“You want to try to muzzle Claire, be my guest,” I dare him.
“Fuck.” He bangs his head on the headrest.
“Here, you need to go. It’s almost daylight.” Grace shoves my oversized bag through the seats at me.
“Should we wait down here in case she throws you out?” Nick asks as I get out of the car.
“Not a chance. You need to have a little faith in your big brother.”
“My idiot big brother.”
“Go! Stop squabbling and go.” Grace’s southern accent makes an appearance, and I smile at her, helping her into the passenger seat.
Without another word, I head into the high-rise and stop by the security desk to pick up the key Bizzy requested. Quietly, I unlock and open the door to the condo, unsure what to expect. Bizzy and Grace gave me an overview, so I’d know a little about the layout.
All of it was unnecessary because I find Claire sleeping curled in a ball on the sofa, her hands tucked under her head, her long blonde hair spread out, partially covering her face, and a blanket bunched around her hips.
I place my bag on the floor quietly and undress, making my way to her. I readjust the pillows and slide in behind her, tucking her close. This is a move I’ve done many times—coming home late to find her asleep and climbing into bed beside her. But today is different because the risk of losing her is fresh on my mind.
I place my mouth to the side of her throat and feel her pulse beating against my lips. She stirs, pressing back and throwing her calf around mine. Another familiar move, and I know what’s coming next. It takes only two minutes before her heart rate increases, and she tenses in my arms.
“Mathis?” she rasps.
“Who else would it be?”
She tries to squirm away, and I use it to my advantage, twisting her until she’s on her back and I’ve caged her in. Her blue eyes are on alert, the emotions swimming inside.