Page 72 of Born for Lace

What mood is that?

Angsty feelings hammer through me. “Stay.” I grab his thick wrist, and he stops midstep. “Stay with me.” The desperation in my voice makes me cringe, but I hold his wrist tighter.

With his back to me, his chin turns until I see the outline of his profile. Dark eyes contemplate my request below deeply furrowed brows.

He looks… tired—open.

Funny, I always thought of him as this grumpy free-ranger, a rogue without a care in the world, but I was mistaken.Somistaken. Just because he doesn’t share his emotions doesn’t mean they are not painful. His thick, muscular body is ripping with silent burdens I didn’t see.

Each scar.

The plate on his skull.

The sneer.

All bloody secrets.

And something inside me flips around. I realise it’s not just my body that wants him anymore. Not just primal and instinctive. Not merely longing in my muscles—no.

There is warm affection in my chest. The pure kind. As though, I want him over me, his body covering mine, his thick muscles loosening because I don’t want anything from him. He can just be. Can relax. And his world will become a little less… heavy.

If only for a moment.

“Lagos.” When I breathe his name this time, it holds a heavy message. I want his gentle side. I say it aloud, because maybe no one ever has, and maybe no one ever will. “I don’t want to hate you,” I whisper. “You said my hatred was all you liked about me, but I don’t want to hate you. And I don’t. Not even when you’re mean, so you don’t have to be. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t work. I don’t hate you,” I repeat. “And I won’t. Not even if you want me to, so please don’t punish me for it.”

My face goes bright red—I feel the embers of embarrassment. I may be a silly girl, but my declaration isn’t made from soft, naïve thoughts but from a genuine, deep appreciation for him.

He slowly edges around, tight unease twirling in the dark depths of his almost black gaze. I feel his body burning as he stands before me, a looming form.

He reaches for the back of my head, fingers feeding into my red hair this time, supporting my neck as I peer up at him. “I will not be cruel to you again, little flower.”

I try not to whimper. Hewascruel. “Okay. Thank you.”

Warm fingers make circles at my neck and crown. “Why do you want me to stay?”

I get lost in his gaze for a moment. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, just as Spero starts to fuss, severing the thick tension between us. I blink, and it seems to release us.

My foot shuffles backward once, and I turn to cringe at the bed.

“Stop.” He removes the bags and suitcases and strips the sheet for me in one movement before covering the mattress with a new sheet.

Once he’s finished, I grit my teeth and amble up on the bed, setting my back against the bedhead. My rib pangs, but I endure it. I need to get Spero used to the feel of my breast, to— I don’t know… rehearse for when we have no food left.

I need to try breastfeeding him.

Apprehension finds little nerves inside me and picks at my courage.

“Will you stay while I try to feed him?” I don’t know what I’m thinking, but my vulnerabilities lunge for him. “I don’t want to be alone while I do this, and you are entirely the wrong person, and yet I can’t imagine anyone else being here—”Stop talking.“For some reason.”

He stares at me for a few heartbeats, and my lungs fill with anxious breaths…

Until he finally nods.

He crosses the room and lowers his massive body to the floor in front of the door, creating a heavy barricade with his form… For privacy. I didn’t even think about that, but he did. That’s why I want him here, to share this responsibility.

I should be embarrassed to do this in front of him, but I’m not. Should feel ashamed. This doesn’t seem like the kind of activity a normal girl does in front of a Xin De male like Lagos.

I should change my mind.

---