He drilled into her, moving her along his length, then stiffened and let his release wash over him. It went on and on, a blazing inferno of sensation and emotion. His heart slammed into his ribcage so hard he feared it might burst free, and then they were both going slack, and the wall was all that held them up.
He panted into her shoulder.
I love you. The words popped into his mind with no warning, and he didn’t have the energy to resist. Did he love her? Yeah, he thought maybe he did, and whoa, wasn’t that a powerful possibility?
The restof the week passed quickly for Bex. Michael came over most nights, and snuck out early in the mornings. He even began bringing his gym gear so he could go straight upstairs to exercise before going to work. With him acting as an intermediary, Bex and Wesley arranged a meeting with Izzy at the beach on Saturday, while Brooke kept an eye on the gym.
Saturday came, and Bex was up early. Truth be told, she hadn’t slept. She’d finally given up trying around one in the morning and crept into the lounge to watch a documentary about the World CrossFit Games. Then she’d fallen down a Netflix wormhole, and when Izzy woke at seven, she was midway through a show about the infamous Barclay Marathon. Her gritty eyes followed Izzy as she bounced into the room in her puppy-print pajamas.
“Mummy! You’re up.”
Bex paused the TV and held out her arms. Izzy walked into them, and she squeezed her daughter tight and buried her face in a halo of fluffy hair, sniffing the sweet scent of shampoo and little girl. This was her baby, and everything was about to change—for better or worse, she wasn’t sure. She grabbed Izzy by the waist and hoisted her onto her lap. Izzy’s arms went around her, and she laid her head trustingly on Bex’s shoulder.
“Did you sleep well?” Bex asked.
“Uh-huh.” Izzy looked at the screen. “What you watchin’?”
“It’s about people running this really hard race,” she explained, grabbing the remote with her free hand to switch the TV off. She’d done enough binging for today. “How does smashed avocado on toast sound for breakfast, Iz?”
Izzy’s bottom lip popped out. “I want Nutella.”
The last thing she needed before she met her father was sugar. But Bex hadn’t mentioned Wesley all week, and she was running out of time. She needed her daughter in a mood to listen, at the very least.
“How about banana with a little bit of brown sugar?”
“Okay.”
Probably what she’d wanted all along. Little sneak. Izzy wiggled off her knee, and Bex got up and went to the kitchen, where she fixed a piece of toast for Izzy and two for herself. They sat at the table and Bex ran, once again, through the number of different ways she could tell Izzy about her father. She’d just worked up the courage to broach the subject and opened her mouth when Izzy spoke.
“Why does Michael go before I get up?”
Bex’s heart flipped-flopped in her chest and her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
Izzy looked up from her toast, a ring of banana around her mouth. “Doesn’t he want to see me?”
Aiming for casual, Bex asked, “What makes you think he’s here in the morning?”
She shrugged her tiny shoulders and tried to wipe the banana from her face, only smearing it more. “He’s loud outside my room.”
Bex fumbled for something to say. She was so not equipped for this conversation. She’d only just psyched herself up for the other one, and this had blindsided her. How could she possibly explain without either revealing too much or hurting Izzy’s feelings?
“Honey,” she began, uncertain where she was going with this. “Michael has his own house to look after. He can’t be around here all of the time.”
“Why not?” She crammed the rest of her toast in her mouth and spoke around it. “He—mmph—likes us, and I—umph—like him.”
Five-year-olds. Bless them. The world was so black and white at that age.
“It isn’t that simple, Iz.” Before Izzy could interrupt, she continued, “But guess what? We’re going to meet someone new today. Isn’t that exciting?”
Izzy perked up, kneeling on her chair and resting her elbows on the table. “Who?”
Bex didn’t even scold her because she was so relieved to be off the topic of Michael’s overnight visits. “His name is Wesley.”
“That’s a funny name.”
Bex grinned. It was okay to take a little pleasure in her daughter insulting her ex, wasn’t it? “It’s rude to say that. It’s a perfectly nice name. Do you want to hear more about him?”
Izzy nodded.