Page 68 of Mine to Worship

“You seem happy here,” Tara says across from me at the table, nibbling on her own corn.

“I am.”

“There is something here that allows you to ground yourself again,” Aubrey says as she approaches us. She leans back on the lounge and closes her eyes for a second.

“Could you live here?” I ask Aubrey, inhaling the sun-kissed air. I know I could, without a doubt.

“No, I love the chaos, and all the unknown faces. The city pulsates, it’s alive, but it also demands all your energy. But once in a while, this is the perfect place to restore your energy.”

With the guys still at the grill, I elbow her. “So you and Jason, huh?”

Sadness flashes in her eyes.

“We’re on different paths, and fuck, it hurts knowing we met at the wrong time.” Aubrey lets out a pained sigh.

“Want a hug?” I ask.

She shrugs. “It is what it is. Did you tell Kian about the gallery opportunity?”

“Yeah, and he’s so supportive about the whole Andre Garcia thing. He thinks I am scared of something.”

“He’s right.” Tara pins me with a stare, daring me to deny it.

I fiddle with my fingers. “I love to paint, but to put myself out there is horrible. It’s like with every opening, my life force is sucked out of me. I feel like a fraud and an impostor.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You deserve this. Talent is one thing, but you have worked your ass off,” Tara comforts me.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that. And I will put myself out there. I want to be a good role model for my baby.”

Aunt Esther always said your biggest fears carry your greatest growth.

Chapter 26

Ellia

Time flows differently here as if the roots of the imposing trees hold it captive. Still, one month rolls by and, after a checkup, Dr. Lopez informs us the baby is strong. I’m so happy and relieved, my body feels weightless.

“So, do we have to follow other rules?” Kian asks.

We share a look. It has been an unspoken rule in the last few weeks to not even think about sex.

As if she knows exactly what he is implying, Dr. Lopez says we’re good to have intercourse. Kian pulls me to his chest and kisses the top of my head. In his embrace, everything else fades away.

We finish up and head out to the car. We go shopping for baby clothes, my fingers trembling as I hold them. They’re small and delicate, just like my baby will be. I purchase a few, my favorite one a yellow onesie with a bee on it.

We have a maternity photo shoot, and I can’t stop grinning. Even with the photographer in the room, it’s as if we’re in our own bubble. Kian presses me to him, his hands cover my small bump and we pose. But what starts as innocent, changes when I plant my hands on his rock-hard chest and tip my chin up. His eyes inflame my skin. Nothing has ever been innocent between us, because the sexual tension between us never lets up. And the cord is going to snap any moment. The instructions of the photographer get lost in the exploratory haze we’re in as our hands touch, lips seek. I unbutton his shirt and he dips his head, his lips grazing my ear.

“Only I get to see you like that,” he warns me.

The unmistakable possession sends thrills rolling down my spine.

“It’s just the two of us,” I urge him on.

I can’t believe I am doing this. My cheeks heat up as we pose with less and less clothes until I remain in panties and he in boxers.

“You two together… the camera loves you,” the photographer beams as he snaps picture after picture.

Kian groans and his hands palm my breasts. I bite my lip, but my amusement slips through as I watch him stare at the camera as if it offends him.

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