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Porter hums in disapproval. "Sore? We can't have that. Let me run you a bath."
In minutes, we're in the master bathroom, and I'm sitting nude on the side of the jacuzzi tub as it fills with water and bubbles, sipping champagne that had been chilling in a bucket on the bathroom counter. How convenient.
"You had this planned all along," I tease, remembering our first date hiking up to that beautiful view. "You are so full of surprises, Porter Brooks."
"Only the best for my girl," Porter answers, stripping down and climbing into the tub with me. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into the warm, sudsy water, my back pressing against his chest. My body relaxes and melts into him, the aches of being thoroughly fucked fading away into nothing.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he whispers in my ear.
"Of course." My heart swells with affection, and the words are right on the tip of my tongue again. I bite them back. "Why would you ask?"
Porter kisses behind my ear. "It's just...I know you've been wanting to talk to me about something, and you keep holding yourself back. If you don't want to, Bailey, you don't have to, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
His hands massage my shoulders and back, and I sigh in utter bliss. There’s nothing else I want in the world because Porter provides it all and then some. I've never been happier. Never felt more adored.
I'm going to say it. To hell with my nerves. I'm going to tell him!
I turn in Porter's arms and take his handsome, angular face in my hands. He's staring at me intently, and I swallow, steeling myself for his response.
"Porter, I lo?—"
Bang bang bang!
There's a loud pounding at the front door of the house, and we both jump. Porter swears and gets to his feet, quickly pulling his clothes on before he heads out of the bathroom. "Stay here."
I sink back into the hot water, listening to the sound of his footsteps crossing the living room and the muffled voices as the door opens and whoever is there comes inside. Whoever he has let in is a man, and Porter's tone goes from annoyed to surprised. Then, I hear something I've never heard from him. He sounds confused. Maybe uncertain?
There's something about the other masculine tone that pokes at something deep in my gray matter, a memory that I've tried to forget, but I brush it off. It's probably just someone from the gym. But Porter is confused, and that's setting off all kinds of red flags. I need to see what's going on.
I wrap the fluffy pink robe Porter bought me around my body, brushing my wet hair away from my face and making sure I'm totally covered. The last thing I want is Porter wringing some guy’s neck because I come out looking scandalous.
I pad into the living room barefoot, and the man standing next to Porter is just turning to face me. He's tall, and his dark hair is buzzed short. We both freeze.
"Ian?"
Porter sounds more confused than ever, "You two know each other?"
I think I'm going to faint. Ian. My ex. My stalker. Why is he here?! Why would Porter let him in?! I swallow once, twice, putting one hand on the wall to steady myself so I don't fall. When I can finally speak, it's a croak. "He's...he's...."
Porter's face shutters, and he turns his face to the ceiling, cursing. "Fuck, Bailey. I should have told you sooner. This is my son, Ian."
My mind is screaming at me. Porter is Ian's father? My stalker's father is my boyfriend. This is too crazy. Way too much. I feel dizzy, and nausea rises in the back of my throat.
"Bailey?" Porter lunges forward to catch me as I stumble, but I push him away, backing up towards the bedroom. I can't deal with this. I can't. Not right now.
Ian finally catches up with what is going on, and I get at least a tiny bit of satisfaction seeing the utter shock on his face. "What the fuck is this?!" he blurts out, his face turning red. "Dad, why is my girl here in a fucking robe?"
Porter's expression is thunderous as he puts the pieces together. "Bailey, explain what’s going on right now."
He sounds so serious, but when he sees how my legs are shaking and the way I'm pressing my hand against my racing heart, he's there, steadying me with his big warm hands. I look up into his eyes, amber brown, and it gives me a little strength.
"It's okay," Porter tells me. "Whatever it is, you need to tell me, Bailey, before I lose my goddamn mind."
He's here for me. I can do this. "Ian is my ex. The one stalking me. The reason I came to get boxing lessons in the first place. Are you telling me that he's...he's..." The words stick in my throat like glue. They're almost too horrifying to say. "He's your son, Porter?"
Porter looks like he's feeling every possible emotion in the span of a few seconds. The predominant one is shock, but it slowly bleeds away to rage. Not at me, at his son. "Un-fucking-fortunately, yeah. He's my son."
"What fucking bullshit is this?" Ian sputters. "You're fucking my girl, Dad? I've been trying to win her back for months now. I come here to get your advice and you're FUCKING her?!"
