Page 30 of King of Hearts

Mal slung her arm over my shoulder and tossed her coffee cup. “Show me the rest of your house first.”

* * *

It was nearlydark when I padded up the stairs to check on Taylor. I kept thinking she’d come down for our nightly routine, but she never did. I contemplated just staying put, keeping the sports highlights on, letting her do her own thing, and, more importantly, not giving in to how comfortable it had become to have her with me every night. I would have been lying if I said I didn’t look forward to spending each evening with her, learning new little things about this woman who’d been stuck in my mind for too long. I realized she loved history books, the ones mostly about America. She had a huge heart and a lot of opinions about the early days of our country, and I loved hearing them. Sometimes she’d talk, not realizing I was there listening to every word, absorbing her and all the tiny pieces of what made her unique. She didn’t like scary movies, nothing with a sad ending, unless it was historical. She loved food and eagerly helped me if I was cooking. Even if she wasn’t sure what to do or how to do it, she would get up and offer to chop or dice. So, with her absence, it just felt empty…and then there was that part of my chest that began to fill with worry.

That part ached in a way I wasn’t ready to fully examine.

Her bedroom door was unlocked and open, her slight form in the middle of her bed as she held her phone to her ear. I carefully stepped closer and heard a soft walloping sound come from the speaker. Taylor was staring off to one side of the room, on her side, her hand tucked under her face while tears ran down her cheeks.

“Hey, you okay?” I gently took a seat on the edge of her bed, and my hand went to her shoulder on its own.

She closed her eyes, which pushed out a few more tears.

Concerned, I tugged her phone free to hear what she was listening to. On the screen it said something about a sound clip of a fetal heartbeat.

“I’m pretending it’s hers.”

I set her phone back down, eyeing her stomach. “You found out the gender?”

She shook her head, swiping at her nose with her sleeve. She wore a large flannel over her pajamas; it looked like a men’s shirt, which caused a strange pitch to my stomach.

“I’m guessing.” She sniffed, unaware that I was reeling over whose shirt she was in.

“Why aren’t you listening to her actual heartbeat?” I asked, moving past that feeling. It wasn’t my business whose shirt it was or if she was with someone or had been seeing someone. I focused on her problem. I knew from my cousin’s pregnancy that there were machines that would allow you to listen to the heartbeat with headphones.

She sat up, swiping at her face, and the devastation nearly broke me open. I’d never seen her so vulnerable. My thumb moved under her eye, swiping away her tears, and I cradled her face in my palm. Words danced along the edge of my tongue to comfort her. I clenched my molars together to hold off the odd sensation.

“The doctor said I wasn’t allowed to record it.”

What a prick, but I knew that was likely true for legal reasons. “Why do you need to hear it tonight?”

The small light from across the room allowed me to see her freckles and tear-stained skin. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I hated that my mind had made the connection, because now it wouldn’t be so easy to push it away. Taylor wasn’t just hot or sexy; she was truly beautiful, with a soul that matched and a light that had somehow been smothered so many times that she just acted like it was a part of her when I knew it wasn’t. She was hiding from something.

“It was just a hard day…” She shrugged, swiping at her face once more. “When I hear it in the appointments, it’s like all of a sudden everything is better, and I don’t have to worry anymore…it makes me feel like everything will be okay.”

“What are you worried about not being okay?” My brows dipped, curious what concerned her so much. Something in my chest flared with a rogue emotion I hadn’t ever felt before. It was fear, protection…things I didn’t want to attach to her but couldn’t seem to stop.

Her shoulder rose while she sat up straighter. “Nothing, just pregnancy stuff.”

Something told me there was more to it than that, and the idea that her tears might be from not having Holden in the picture left me feeling empty and like I’d failed her somehow. I didn’t know why or the cause of it, but it was like my rib cage was opening under taut skin, just painful and without a doubt would leave me ruined.

“Want to watch something in here?” I had to try to cheer her up, get her mind off of whatever it was that had bothered her so much.

She gave me a small laugh and moved over to make room for me. “I don’t have a television in here.”

I settled in next to her. “That’s okay, I have my phone.”

“I’m kind of a mess. I still need to brush and braid my hair.”

I realized now, beyond just the pajamas, her hair was indeed wet. “Grab the brush, I’ll help you.” Why had I just offered that? I didn’t want to touch her hair or sit with her between my legs. I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“Juan, it’s fine. I’ll just—”

“Taylor, let me help.”Fuck.What was wrong with me?

She let out a sigh and moved. Bringing back her laptop and a brush, she eyed the bed and the open space between my legs. It was dim enough in the room that I couldn’t catch whether her eyes flared or not, but the flush working into her neck told me she would be just as affected by this setup as me.

She set up a television show on her computer and then gingerly crawled onto the bed and in between my legs.

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