Page 34 of Hidden With You

“Well, aren’t they the lucky ones. But that’s not me.”

“Maybe it could be.”

“This is my reality. I have to live in it. Besides, I would think you’d approve. All the sex, none of the clinginess. It’s an open offer.”

“Zelda.”

“Dammit, everyone’s reality is different. It’s spun from what we know, the world we’ve seen. The things we’ve experienced. This is mine.”

“Yours sounds sad.”

“And yours isn’t?” I snap.

I regret the question the moment it’s out of my mouth because I can see that it’s hit him with the force of a slap. His expression is a more potent answer than any he could ever speak, but when his words do come, they still break my heart.

“I loved my wife,” he says, his voice low but steady. “I loved my daughter. That relationship meant everything to me, and I lost it. And I swear I will do whatever I can to find out who took them from me.”

“I believe you.” I want to ask him if Leah’s right, and if he’s been using whatever resources he can scrape together to try and track down their killer. I want to ask him if he’s had any luck, and how long he’s going to pursue that path. Because I can’t imagine my mother lifting one single finger if I were to disappear from this earth, and the fact that he’s still chasing the monster who took his family after so many years gives me a little bit of hope.

I’m just not sure that I want to have hope. It can be so disappointing if it doesn’t pan out.

For a moment, nobody says anything, then he reaches over and puts his hand on my thigh. Even through the covers, I feel the heat of the connection. “You’re right. Our realities are different. My daughter’s life was nothing like yours. And I’m sorry for you.”

I shrug. He knows my story. “But don’t be sorry for me. Maybe my career is fate balancing the scales.”

His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

I shrug. “Shitty family life but good career. Maybe it’s karma.”

“Is that what you really think?”

I glance away. The truth is I don’t have many close friends. Even outside of sex, I don’t do relationships, not really. Leah’s the closest, and I think that only lasted because she feels more like an aunt even though I know we somehow became friends. So yeah. I have a kick-ass career, but most of the time, I’m just lonely.

I smile up at him. “Karma really is a bitch.” I put my hand over his. “But at least I’m not alone right now.” I pitch my voice up at the end, like a question. Or an invitation.

For a moment we sit in silence. I don’t know what he’s thinking. If he’s thinking about his family or my life or about my silent invitation.

As for me, I’m thinking about Karma the Bitch. If my success really is a balancing of the scales, then I’d like to take it back. Because on the whole, I think I’d rather have my dad and a better mom and no Carter Malloy at all. But my life is not one of my fantasy novels, and I can’t rearrange the people in it any more than I can conjure a multiverse.

Beside me, Jasper is slowly stroking his fingertips along my forearm. The hairs are standing up, and the light tickle is more sensual than it should be. It’s a caress, bare fingers against bare skin, and all I want is for it to continue.

“Jasper...” My voice trails off. I want to beg, but I also don’t want to beg.

I’m not sure he even heard me, though. “You’re so young,” he whispers. “And so small. I could break you without the slightest effort, but all I want to do is take care of you.”

“Like a pet?” I ask with a laugh.

“No,” he says, without any humor in his voice. “Definitely not like a pet.”

“I told you what I want,” I say. “But let me remind you.” I slide out from under the covers, revealing myself in just the tank and panties. “Put your back here,” I say, urging him to sit where I’d been, his back against the headboard.

“Zelda.”

“Just do it.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to say no, but then he settles onto the bed. I straddle him, feeling his erection under the thin flannel of the pajama bottoms. I rock my hips as I hold onto his shoulders so that I’m leaning forward. The tank top is very loose, the kind I usually wear with a sports bra. I know that he can see my breasts, and as I grind harder, I see him bite his lip, trying to hold back. I lean forward and brush my lips over his ear. “Admit that you like this.”

“I can’t really deny it.” His voice is strained and only turns me on more.