Page 61 of Inevitable

“No…not physically,” I whispered, closing my eyes as Kit's vicious words rotated through my mind on a hellish merry-go-round. I understood that what he said about Bash was wrong, but he had touched on all my deeper insecurities about our budding relationship.

Bash though could read me like a book, and he realized what my comment had meant. “What did he say to you, M?” he asked, his anger melting into a look of dread and concern.

I shook my head, not wanting to rehash any of the poison he spewed at me. It was as if talking about them would give them power to manifest and grow. Bash pressed me, “Baby, tell me what he said.”

I heaved an exhausted sigh, and pushed the words out. “He said…that I was an experiment to you and you'd never leave Ainsley for the likes of me. Said that you would fuck me out of your system and leave me again,” I admitted roughly. The pain of Kit's comments lanced through me and I felt weak for letting them get to me at all.

“Micah, listen to me…look at me, baby,” Bash urged me, his hand moving back to cup my cheek. I dragged my gaze back to his, the intensity in those shimmering eyes of his stealing my breath. “You could never be an experiment to me, Micah. There is absolutely no getting you out of my system in any way, shape or form. Leaving you isn't even an option for me, M.”

Tears pushed their way to the surface, blurring my vision as I struggled not to blink and cause them to fall.

“Baby, you don't understand how much you are a part of me. You're my every breath, my every heartbeat, my every desire. You're my first thought in the morning and the last thing I see when I fall asleep. You consume each little part of me, and I wouldn't have it any other way,” Bash spoke the words low and clear, making sure I heard each syllable of his breathtaking confession.

My heart thumped a hopeful rhythm, the monitor registering the increase in pace as I let his words flow over me, healing all the damage Kit had caused. But there was still doubt, still fear there. “But Ainsley—”

“Will be gone,” Bash finished my sentence, the look on his face strong and sure. I blinked at him, the tears falling free. “Micah, I am so fucking sorry that I let you walk out this morning thinking that I wouldn't give you the world. I was wrong, baby. I have a plan to get rid of her, and I will be yours alone. It's you and me, out in the light, just like it should be,” Bash whispered, grabbing one of my hands and kissing it gently.

“You…you promise?” I cried softly, the doubt washing away under the immense wave of hope crashing into me. “But…what about your dad? What if you regret it?”

“I'll deal with my dad. You were right, Micah. I can't let him control me, and as soon as I deal with Ainsley, I can handle him. I promise. And there is no world, no reality where I could ever regret choosing you. And I will always choose you from now on, baby. I love you, Micah.”

The tears started pouring from me, pure liquid joy running down my face as my heart nearly burst out of my chest. “Bash…” I cried, my face on fire from the smile that I couldn't keep away.

“I mean it, M. I am so fucking in love with you that I hate myself for ever trying to deny it for so many years,” Bash said, his own tears glazing over those beautiful emerald orbs.

“Years?” I asked in surprise.

“Years. I've been falling for you every day since we met, Micah. Itjust took a while for my mind to recognize what my heart knew the whole time.” Bash then leaned down and captured my lips in an impassioned kiss. It was all-consuming and seared me down to my bones. Our tongues darted out to find their missing mate, sliding together in sweet bliss. His taste flooded my system and I was drunk on him.

Bash continued to kiss me until we were both breathless and came up for air. “So…what happens now?” I asked, resting my forehead against his, inhaling his intoxicating scent like a heady drug.

“Now, you come home with me, baby,” Bash said with that sexy smirk that made my knees weak. “You're on concussion protocol, and will need someone to wake you every few hours. Much easier to do when you're in my bed.”

I rolled my eyes playfully at him, but the action made my head throb, the pain making a reappearance. “You know that can happen at my place just as easily,” I teased, not really put out that Bash was taking me home.Home…we could have a home together now. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up!

“That's true…but I intend to have you permanently in my bed from now on, so I figured it couldn't hurt to get a head start.” Bash's smirk turned into a full-fledged, wicked grin. “I just got my hands on you for good, love, and I am never letting you go again.”

That fucking worked for me.

CHAPTER 22

Bastian

Micah was released from the hospital several hours later and we swung by his apartment to grab whatever he would need for the foreseeable future. I hadn't exaggerated when I told him I planned on keeping him in my bed. I was worried that I would seem like a certified lunatic for basically asking him to move in with me so soon, or at all, but Micah dove in headfirst. I believe his exact words were “Your ass belongs to me now, as well as half your closet space. There's no getting rid of me, Dupont!”

Needless to say, I was perfectly fucking happy with that. He could have the whole damn closet if that meant I could keep him forever. The instant I told Micah I loved him, the noise in my head settled and I felt the first moment of true peace that I had in months. Suddenly, my dad and Ainsley weren't as terrifying as before and I credited that all to Micah. He was my anchor, my safe place, and I knew in the deepest parts of me that I could weather any storm with him at my side.

The doctor had given strict instructions to wake Micah every few hours and ask him simple questions while checking for any changes in how he looked or acted. He definitely didn't appreciate that around three in the morning when I shook him awake to ask him about the year and the president. His hand shot out, missing my face by a quarter of an inch, and told me to kindly fuck off. He managed to answer on the second try before passing back out. Besides a headache that was mitigated by pain meds, he seemed to be doing well considering the giant, stapled gash in his head.

The real problem for him was the lack of moderate to strenuous activity. More to the point, he was pissed at the lack of sex that the restrictions imposed. Sure, he grumbled and complained about not having any screen time for a bit, but finally being under the same roof, in the same bed, and not being able to give into our insane desire for each other was a real shit time.

If I thought I had wanted Micah before, it was nothing compared to now and lust hit me like a railroad spike to the groin anytime he was in my vicinity. I found anything he did dangerously hot, and if the doctor hadn't expressly discouraged sex for at least the first couple weeks, I would have mauled him each time he stretched on the couch, or let out a moan while sipping his coffee, or even just walked by me and placed a kiss on my lips.

I had to admit that was one of the most incredible parts about our new relationship. The simple, loving touches that we weren't allowed before came almost second nature now. Everything felt just as it did when we were only friends and would talk mindlessly for hours or make each other laugh with stupid jokes, but now those moments were interlaced with the sweetest intimacy. A peck on the lips, a hand caressing the back of the neck, arms wrapped around the waist from behind, a hand sweeping across a cheek while talking. Every tiny caress, stroke, or touch had the power to stir my blood and make me forget my name.

It was everything I had wanted with him. Once I surrendered to the intense emotions he provoked in me, it was almost impossible to remember a time when I didn't think of him this way. Being with Micah was as natural and necessary as breathing air.

It wasn't all smooth sailing though. On the drive home from the hospital, we had a rocky conversation about the Kit situation. No matter how much I begged or how angry I got, Micah refused to press charges on that fucker for hurting him and running out. I was irritated beyond fucking belief. He claimed that despite Kit being a raging douchebag and grabbing him, it was all still an accident. Micah didn't want the headache of dealing with the police questioning him, and said he'd rather we get on with our lives. Of course, that was his call to make even if I hated it. He had been through enough, and I didn't have the heart to argue with him. I never could. So I dropped it and supported his decision.Like the whipped asshole I am apparently.

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