“He’s so good, Clara. So, so good. What if I ruin it?”
“You won’t. Not if you both keep talking. Don’t bottle it up. Tell him when you’re afraid, when you’re mad, when you’re happy. We aren’t our parents, Becs.”
She hit the nail on the head with that one. “Is that what you and Mav do? You two had an arrangement that started everything. How did you move past the bargain and into reality?”
“Well, it was a long time coming for him. He’d been in love for a long while without admitting it to himself. I was so guarded I couldn’t believe he’d ever really want me. But we fell into the self-doubt pitfalls of our own baggage. It almost ruined everything, remember?”
I thought back to a very similar phone call she and I had when she was pregnant and the two of them had almost called it quits. “But you went and told him how you felt.”
“I was honest with him. I didn’t let him self-sabotage. And we made each other promise never to hold our cards to our chests again.”
I swiped the tear off my cheek as I continued walking. “I’m afraid to need him like Mom needed Dad. They were so bad for each other.”
“It’s okay to need people. I need Mav every day, and he needs me. Don’t let that shut you down. Let him love you. You deserve it.”
Nodding, I took a shuddering breath, then let it out with a shaky sigh. “God, sorry to have a complete breakdown on you in the middle of the night.”
“It’s okay. I was up anyway. Morning sickness is a misnomer, by the way.”
“Wait, what? You’re pregnant again?”
She grinned. “Eight weeks. Mav is insufferably proud of himself.”
“That’s so great. Quinn needs a little brother or sister to boss around.”
A wail filtered through the phone, pulling my sister’s attention from the screen. “Speaking of. I gotta go. I love you, Becs. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
“Love you too. Thank you.”
As soon as we hung up, I shoved my phone in my back pocket and strode toward the rink. She was right. No matter how we got here, Taylor and I were meant to be. We loved each other, and I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that. Not even my own fears.
20
TAYLOR
My beautiful wifesighed and rolled over in our bed, her long hair fanned across the pillow, blankets exposing most of her back and the top of her arse. Reaching out, I pulled the duvet up to cover her, not wanting her to be cold this early in the morning.
The sky was the deep blue of approaching dawn, not yet light enough for more color to streak across the horizon. I knew I should have tried to sleep longer, but I couldn’t. I had a lot to think about. Plans to make. A life to build piece by piece.
Securing my knee brace, I stretched my leg and nodded, something loosening in my chest when I felt nothing more than the usual tightness around the scar. Thank fuck. I’d really thought I’d hurt myself when Hamish took me out on the ice yesterday. The flight home had been hell.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going for a run. I can’t sleep.”
“Fucking jet lag,” she grumbled. “What time is it?”
“4:15. I’ll be back before you know it.” I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my fingers across her cheek.
“Be careful.”
Leaning down, I kissed her temple before standing and popping my earbuds in. “Go back to sleep, hen. Then I can wake you properly when I get home.”
“Mmm, promises, promises.”
I winked at her as I left, my cock responding to the idea too.
The bite of the chilly morning air hit my cheeks as I stepped outside into the quiet neighborhood.