“Lucas, we—”
“No, dammit! You promise me, because I love you so damn much, Tessa, that I will not fuck this up.”
She takes a deep breath, as if wounded, and her shoulders shake as she tries not to cry. “Don’t say that to me.”
“I can’t help myself. Because our time is now. Accept it or not. I have loved you through every part of my life.”
“I can’t say that back to you, Lucas.”
“You will when you’re ready. Come back and lay down. Let me help you sleep. Tomorrow, we talk about this.”
“I can’t when I’m sober.”
Somehow, I get her to lie down in the middle of an epic yawn.
“This isn’t wrong, Tessa. Don’t hide behind the ‘I was drunk’ excuse. When you’re ready, I will be here, hard as fuck and ready to fuck you through whatever it is you need me to.”
?
She wakes after I have been awake for almost an hour, her body draped across mine.
“Oh God …”
“No, Lucas. Good morning, baby.”
“Lucas, this … this was a bad—”
“Nope.” I kiss her, and she pulls back.
“I can’t do this, Lucas.”
“Tell me why.”
“I’m not ready. My kids, your kids—”
“This is about you and me.”
She closes her eyes, and tears fall.
“Please don’t cry.”
“They’re going to be so disappointed in me.”
“Tell me what to do to make it easier.”
“Pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Baby, the only thing that happened was a lot of kissing, some arguing, and I told you I love you and that we could take this as slow—”
She rolls off of me and sits up.
“Hold up.”
“No.”
“Yes.” I grab her chin and turn her toward me. “What I’m hearing is you’re afraid of what your kids will think.”
“And yours, Lucas. Plus, I’m not ready for anyone to be telling me they love me. That’s just—”