Page 203 of Quarter to Midnight

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Page 203 of Quarter to Midnight

As I replay the memories we’ve made together, I can honestly say she’s always been the same person since we met. When I think about our slow progression from meeting to last night, it’s been a mutual pining with no hidden agendas.

She doesn't want me because I'm rich. She wants me for me.

A guy who genuinely wants the best for her and encourages her to follow her dreams.

Being around her brings out a fun, youthful side out of me that I put away for so long. But with her around, I want to talk about everything and anything—a memory of our childhood, a dream, the future, or just our day at work.

I thought I loved my ex. But as I lie here with Chelsea in my arms, it’s evident that I didn’t, because I didn’t feel this soul-crushing need to be around her all the time. There’s still a fear that remains deep in my heart that she’ll wake up and realize she deserves better, though.

Only, my thoughts disappear the moment she twists in my arms.

“You’re watching me sleep. You creep.” She laughs, and I can’t help the deep rumble coming from my chest as she moves her hand across it.

How could someone as pretty as her like someone like me? A guy who never used to laugh, yet with her laughs all the time.

“I'm wondering if you're going to run away,” I say honestly.

“Not unless you want me to go.” Lifting her head, she gives me a playful smile.

I shake my head, tracing her skin with my fingers, enjoying the feel of her silky skin. “I don't want you to.”

“I don't want you to either.” She sighs, clearly enjoying the touch of my hand on her warm skin.

“Good.”

There’s something about the way her face pinches.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her head, and when I pull back, her eyes meet mine again.

I want to know what's in that pretty little head of hers.

“Sorry,” she says quietly. Her teeth tug her lip before she answers. “But I'm just wondering if this was a one-time thing for you?”

I shake my head again before she’s even finished. “No, I can't do casual. I wouldn't have let you in if I wasn’t serious about you.” There’s no question about that, but then what made her think that?

“Did I say something that made you think I wanted something casual?” I ask, searching her eyes.

She sucks in a deep breath and lowers her head gently against my chest. “No, I just assumed. So there’s no more fake relationship?”

I move my fingers from her back to her hair, enjoying her dark locks against her skin. “Well, let me make this clear. I want you, Shell. Nothing has been fake. I was kidding myself thinking it could be. Everything I felt for you was real.”

I’m sure she can feel my heart racing against her chest. But I don't plan to do anything with her. I want to show her that this is more than just sex, that my heart belongs to her and, fuck, she has the power to break it.

“I want you too, and it was never fake for me either.” The desperation in her voice makes me reach out and bring her face to mine, sealing our words with a kiss.

Reluctantly, I pull back, and we simply stare at each other in silence. It's as if we're just in a lust bubble. The room is quiet except for our heavy breathing.

I don't want to leave at this moment, but I know we can't stay here all day.

I tug her to me and hold her tight again, relieved almost everything is out in the open. I’ve never slept so well in my life. There’s something about holding her in my arms as I slept that made me drift into a heavier sleep. I never want to change my sheets again, wondering if they’ll keep bringing me good rest. The shades on the windows are down, blocking out the sunlight. Leaving us to question what time it is.

But when her stomach rumbles, I realize it must be breakfast time. My cheek pulls up on one side, remembering the time at the sandwich place when her stomach did the same thing. I love these moments alone.

“Let me make you some breakfast.”

Her head lifts to look up at me as she asks, “Do you mind if I cook?”

“Mind? No. Feel bad? Yeah…”


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