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She gives me a small smile and nods at the phone. "You can't avoid him forever," she tells me.
She's right. Still….
"I didn't mean to wake you up," I mutter, stalling.
She runs her fingers through my hair again. "I wasn't asleep. I was thinking."
"About what?"
"You." She smiles again, her eyes lighting up in the dim room.
Christ, she's sweet.
"I haven't talked to him since it happened."
"You're still mad at him," she guesses.
I nod.
"So tell him that." She scoots forward until she's right up against me, pressing her tits into my back. Her lips ghost across the tattoo on my upper back as she lays her head on my shoulder, hugging me from behind. "Tell him that he's an asshole. Tell him you want to kick his ass. Tell him whatever you need to tell him. Just call him, Roman. You've been putting it off for long enough already."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do," she says, and I feel her shrug against my back.
"How?"
How the fuck does she always know what I'm thinking?
"You aren't the only one who pays attention," she says after a minute. "I see the way you glance at your phone every time you talk about Brady or mention your job. You're worried about him."
She's right about that, too. I'm fucking livid that he missed that son of a bitch tailing him home. I'm furious that he lost his edge and put Carla and Andres in danger. That he put my family in harm's way…but I'm fucking worried about him too. He's my brother in everything but name. We've been through ten kinds of hell together.
Maybe Mila's making me soft. Maybe being with her is giving me a new perspective. I don't fucking know. All I know is that I'm worried about him and where his head is at with all this new shit with Guerrero popping up.
"I'll call him," I mutter, turning to kiss the side of her head. "You should go back to sleep. It's still early."
"Will you come back to bed after you talk to him?" she asks, cuddling up on my side of the bed when I stand.
"Yeah, baby."
"Okay." She smiles at me again, burrowing into my pillows.
My cock stirs as I watch her. Even bruised, she's gorgeous. I'm going to start destroying shit if I can't get in her again soon. I've managed to hold her off the last few days, but I'm not sure how much longer I can manage. With her constantly teasing me, I'm barely hanging on. And she is doing everything she can to make me lose it.
I want in her so fucking badly it hurts, but I don't know how to be gentle. I don't know how to be soft when I want her like I do. I want to give her soft and sweet and everything she deserves...but I don't know how to do that. I lose control every single time I have my hands on her sexy little body.
With those bruises all over her back and down her side, I can't help but worry I'll hurt her. Every time I think about finding her at the bottom of the stairs, not moving, it feels like my heart is being squeezed in a vise. I could have lost her, and that fact keeps fucking with my head.
"Love you," she mumbles through a yawn.
My heart fills at her words. That warm feeling in the center of my chest pushes out the worry and fear.
God, who knew love would feel so fucking good? I sure as hell didn't. I spent so long running from the mere thought of it that I never stopped to consider how goddamn good it could be. I think I was running toward her the entire fucking time, just waiting for the chance to make her mine.
I kiss her softly before slipping from the room to call Brady. Once I'm in the kitchen, it takes another ten minutes to convince myself to make the call. I'm actually nervous.
Brady answers on the third ring. "I didn't think you'd call," he says immediately.
