There was still a small part of me that expected him to say that this was a joke. That it was just a fling, and that this would be over the moment he walked out the door. “I believe you.”
“I’m glad.”
Bryce kisses me again, rolling over so that he’s pressing me down into the mattress. I think it’s my favorite feeling with him, because I’m incredibly aware of his body and how close he is to me. When he was so far away for so long.
I bathe in the sensation of the kiss, because he is a fucking amazing kisser. Bryce’s tongue traces the seam of my lips and I open for him, accepting the welcome fire that accompanies every time he touches me.
When he pulls back, I’m dizzy.
“I want you to come with me to Marcy’s baby shower next week,” he says. “Will you?”
Marcy is Bryce’s American stepsister. I knew her when I was younger, growing up in Waterton. My father and Bryce went to Oxford together, and when Bryce’s father decided to move to America, it was his eagerness to give his son some comfort away from home that let him to move to Waterton. And when Bryce’s father remarried, his new spouse had a daughter. She’s a few years older than me.
We weren’t close, but we were friendly. We saw each other a fair amount just because of my father’s relationship with Bryce.
I haven’t been back to Waterton outside holidays in a couple years. Mostly because I was trying to avoid him. It feels like an entirely separate part of my life. “Won’t that be weird? I wasn’t invited.”
He shrugs. “It’s a pretty casual thing. It will be fine.”
I roll my eyes. “Bryce, there are place cards. That doesn’t exactly strike me as something ‘casual.’”
“I promise you it is,” he laughs. “Marcy wanted to do the place cards because she thought they would be nice. But it’s not like she has a seating chart. If you make yourself a place card and we show up together, I’ll tell her that you’re the one that did the calligraphy and she’ll probably cry. She’ll be more than happy to have you there.”
“Why would she cry?”
He smiles. “Pregnancy has made Marcy a crier. Over everything, good and bad. Trust me, good calligraphy is definitely something worth crying over right now.”
“Is she due soon?”
“Yes, at the end of the month. And I think you’ll enjoy yourself. You used to be friends.”
“I guess,” I say, avoiding his eyes and instead choosing to trace the lines of his muscles with my fingers. “Sort of. We were never close, but you probably knew that. I haven’t seen her in years—I had no idea she was even pregnant.”
Bryce presses his forehead against mine. “She will be happy to see you. I don’t think you realize how much everybody in Waterton misses you,” he says. “How much everybody loves you—especially your family. They miss you more than anyone. I don’t think they really got over you moving away, or understood why.”
“No,” I say, hating the uncomfortable feeling in my chest. I miss them too, but I could never explain to them. I sigh. “It’s not like I could tell them that I was in love with you and desperately needed to get away so that I didn’t try to seduce you again.” I laugh without any humor, because the very sentence is ridiculous. But that doesn’t make it any less true.
“You should call them more.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Telling me what to do?”
“Only for this. And sometimes when we’re fucking.” I laugh for real this time, and I’m distracted by his hands on my body. “But really, Katti. They talk about you all the time. They’re so proud of you for your success.”
“I know,” I say softly. “What are we going to do, Bryce? We can’t tell them. They’ll lose their shit. And I’m not that good an actor. It’s why I left in the first place. If we’re all in the same room together, they’re going to know.”
“I highly doubt that it will be as bad as you’re imagining.”
“It will. I don’t even want to think about how that conversation is going to go.”
He leans down and sucks on my collarbone, making me groan. “Then don’t think about it. That’s not something we have to worry about yet, because for now it’s just us. I think that’s best until we get our feet, don’t you?”
“For sure.”
“Good. Then I want to go back to something you just skipped past.” A brilliant smile breaks out on Bryce’s face. “You were in love with me?”
I bite my lip. I was hoping that he wouldn’t notice that I said that. But the man notices everything. “I like to think so,” I say. “But being in love with somebody isn’t the same when they don’t love you back. Can you really call it being in love if you’re by yourself? Doesn’t being in love require two people?”