Page 129 of A Major Puck Up

And he also hasn’t treated her like absolute garbage for the past few weeks like I have.

I glance at my phone again, wishing Millie would text me and tell me she’s having a terrible time. Or that she regrets going out. Fuck, even if she texted to ask about Vivi right now, I’d be happy. At least then I’d know she’s thinking about us. That we matter.

This is ridiculous. Why am I just staring at the clock? Dropping the phone onto the kitchen counter, I grab my whiskey and head into the living room. Bypassing the couch, I go straight toward the grand piano I bought for the only woman I’ve ever loved. Then I settle on the bench in front of the instrument that has never been played, and in my dark apartment, I run my fingers across the ivory keys.

The sound that comes from the instrument is jarring, making me pull back with a sharp breath in. I glare at the damn thing, then curse under my breath. I’m a fucking idiot. The last thing I want is to wake Vivi. It’s after eleven p.m. With my luck, she’ll be up in another hour or so anyway. I should be reading up on how best to handle teething. Maybe searching the margins for Millie’s replies. There has got to be something out there that will take Vivi’s pain away.

Mentally, I add it to the list of the thousand things I want to do tomorrow. I hang my head and let out a resigned sigh. Every inch of my body is buzzing with adrenaline. I’m desperate to tell Millie how I feel, to tell her father that I’m in love with his daughter, and her brother that he’s just going to have to deal with it. I’m ready to tell the world that she’s mine, and she’s out on a fucking date with someone else.

Keys jangle in the hall, and then the knob is turning and the door is opening, and there she is, her auburn hair wild. The relief that hits me is so bone deep I rub my legs to soothe the ache. In doing so, I hit the keys on the piano, startling us both.

“Shit.” Millie jumps and spins, her eyes wide. Then, wearing a confused frown, she steps forward. “What are you doing?”

“Did he kiss you?”

“What?”

“Did. He. Kiss. You?” I grind out.

She tilts her head, her shoulders lowering. “Gavin,” she says, her voice soft, placating.

My blood is pumping as I wait for her response. “It’s an easy answer, Millie.”

“No.” She clasps her hands in front of her. “We grabbed dinner and watched a movie.”

I spin on the bench so I’m facing her. Like this, with me seated and her standing, she’s barely taller than me. My mouth waters as I get a hit of her fruity scent, as I get lost in the way she licks her full lips. The moonlight filtering in makes her golden eyes glow and brings out the freckles dotting her skin like constellations. She’s effervescent, her dark curls so perfect I have to clutch my thighs to keep from pulling on one.

“Did you want him to kiss you?”

Millie juts her chin out defiantly. “What do you want me to tell you?”

“The truth. Do you think about kissing him? Does the idea of your lips touching his make you ache? It makes me ache, Millie. Makes me sick to my stomach. Makes me want to trade the kid, but only after I beat the shit out of him. But I can’t really do that just because he’s looking at my nanny.”

She presses closer to me, her knee bumping mine. “Your nanny? That’s all I am to you?”

Tipping my head back, I grasp her by the backs of her thighs and hold her in place. “You know you’re more than that.”

“You called me Peaches,” she taunts, one brow arched. “Earlier, when I walked out of your bedroom, you said, ‘Sleep okay, Peaches?’”

I suck in a breath at the sharp pain that lances my chest. I did.

Gently, she strokes my cheek, her expression softening. “And you wear a bracelet that says Peaches on your wrist. How long, Gavin? How long have you been wearing that?”

I close my eyes, relishing the feel of her hands on me again, soaking in her heat and inhaling her scent. I want to commit every detail of this moment to memory. Millie drapes one leg over my thigh, then the other. I grip her waist so she doesn’t fall as she settles on my lap, straddling me. The heat between her legs has me stirring to life and squeezing her tighter, holding her to me, trying to wrap my brain around what’s happening right now.

She clutches at my shoulders. “How long are you going to pretend we’re nothing when we both know that, you and me, we’re explosive together?”

“Exactly,” I say, my throat thick. “Explosive. We’ll blow up our lives. We’ll blow up the lives of everyone we know. I was willing to do that, Millie. I was willing to destroy my relationship with everyone I knew so I could have you. But then you destroyed me.”

Eyes glistening, she presses her palms to my cheeks. “I destroyed me too. But I wasn’t ready.”

My gut twists, and so does my expression. “And I’m supposed to believe you suddenly are?”

“No,” she whispers, ducking and giving me the most earnest look. “You’re supposed to see that I am. For weeks I’ve been here every step of the way. Not because I’m your nanny, but because I’m your person. I’m your person, and you’re mine. Please stop punishing me and touch me. Kiss me. Because the only person I ache for is you.”

Her golden eyes are imploring, begging me to believe her. In those eyes, I see my future. I saw my future in them a year ago too, when I showed up at her apartment in Paris. I think I saw it the day on the plane when I found out who she was.

If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have risked blowing up my friendship with her father. I wouldn’t have risked my reputation. She was worth it all. And though she broke my heart when she told me she wasn’t ready, I’m not even upset that things turned out this way.

---