Page 134 of The Re-Proposal

Thewoman.

The one who got away.

The one who never left my heart, my mind.

The one who swore she’d never forgive me.

The one who did.

But forgiveness doesn’t mean she’s mine again, even if she accepted the invitation into my bed.

On the bright side, she’s crossed the continent between her side and mine.

Clarissa’s sprawled out, her head on my chest, her leg a high kick on my thighs, curly black hair contained in a bun. I want to reach out and squeeze those tight curls.

I also want to kiss my way down her forehead to her lips.

But I think the curls are the less creepy option.

I sink my fingers into her hair. It’s so satisfying.

“Mm.” She swats at my hand, protective of her curls even in her sleep.

The fact that she didn’t grumble about needing a bonnet when she fell on top of my pillows shows how crazy exhausted she was last night.

Or this morning.

I prop my head up on my hand and look down at her. Soft brown skin. Thick eyelashes. Plump lips.

A deer in the bed of a hunter.

Does she know how badly I want her? Does she know how obsessed I am with her? Does she know I’m not the same, fumbling, uncertain boy who followed her around in college?

Back then, everything felt complicated.

Except her.

She was so simple, so innocent that I was the one who over-thought, over-analyzed, stumbled around in the dark like a blind man.

I tangle my fingers in hers and bring it up to my lips for a kiss. “You shouldn’t have reminded me of how good it is to sleep beside you, princess,” I whisper. “Because now, there’s no hope of me sleeping without you again.”

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t hear me or the threat I just made.

Because to her, it would be a threat.

I smirk and disentangle myself from her. Grabbing my phone, I shoot Mimi a text and then I notice that there’s an update from Clay. Must be that military training that allows him to withstand high-adrenaline scenarios on no sleep.

I need to call my brother, find a new toothbrush for Clarissa, and rearrange my schedule so I can join her at Maggie’s house. She hasn’t asked—to be fair the woman doesn’t ask me for anything—but I know her well. She’ll wantsomeonefrom the renovation team there.

And I just so happen to be someone from the team.

I start to leave when Clarissa latches onto me. Her face tightens in fear and sweat beads on her forehead. She pulls me closer, squeezing so tight I almost choke.

Teddy bear.

I thought she was being coy when she mentioned needing one. I didn’t realize she meant that.

I twist around. “It’s okay, princess.” I slide my fingers over her forehead and into her hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

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