Page 110 of Scoring Eden

Now, in the yellow-gold light of morning, there’s only one thought on my mind.

Eden loves me.

Me.

Out of every better man in the world, she chose me. The one too terrified to give her what she deserves, fighting the pull between us at every opportunity, belligerent in my determination to walk away before I get too attached.

Guess it’s too late for that now.

And to be honest, I’m tired of running. It only seems to lead me back to her anyway.

I want her.

I want this.

But I’m self-aware enough to know that I still need some serious help. So, I pick up my phone from the bedside table and throw off a text to Dr. Sharma, asking if she can fit me in today. It’s Saturday, so I know it’s a longshot, but my phone immediately beeps with an incoming message, and lo and behold, I have a session with her in an hour’s time.

“What time is it?” a sleepy voice rasps from beside me.

I look down to find Eden blinking bleary eyes up at me, strands of dark hair glued to the side of her face with sweat and quite possibly drool. The woman is fucking adorable. “It’s just after nine.”

“Huh.” She rubs a hand over her face and detaches herself from my chest. I feel instantly bereft. “We slept late.”

“Nine is late for you?”

“Late by Macon’s standards.” She grumbles as she unfurls herself into a sitting position and rests her back against the headboard. “The kid is usually up at dawn. I should go check on him.”

“You do that while I pee.” I throw my legs over the side of the bed, toss on some underwear, and run top speed to the bathroom.

When I return, Macon is bouncing on his knees on the bed, kitted out in navy-blue pajamas dotted with tiny green aliens.

His brow furrows as he first looks over me, then at his mom, whose cheeks have flushed a furious shade of maroon. Fortunately, she had the foresight to fling on the shirt I discarded on the floor last night, and I thank whatever divine spirits are out there that I had the wherewithal to put on underwear. It would have made for a very uncomfortable situation if I hadn’t.

“Uncle Alex, why are you in Mom’s room? And why aren’t you wearing any clothes?”

I scratch the back of my neck and send an impeaching look to Eden.

“Alex just needed to use the bathroom for a minute.”

Macon’s frown deepens. “But there’s one down the hall.”

“Yes.” I point at him like he’s made an excellent point. “But that one is, well, you see, it’s broken, so I had to use this one.”

“I just used it a second ago, and it was fine.”

“Well…” I’m blinking so rapidly from the stress that my vision blurs. “It must have fixed itself.”

Macon stares at me like I’m stupid. “You guys are weird. And idiots. It’s quite obvious what’s going on here,” he says in what could be a British accent, looking down his nose at us like he’s the principal and we’re two unruly students who’ve wound up in his office.

Eden’s lips twitch. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep. You’re friends that kiss now.”

That makes me snort. “You’ve been spending too much time with Ivy.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“And you’re as intimidating as your mother when you want to be.”