“Are you worried about their reaction?” he asks.
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant. “It’s far beyond time they found out. I’m a romance author, not a serial killer. I don’t know why I built it up in my head for so long.” And it helps that Charlie’s coming along with me. He’s my ride.
He thinks it’s hilarious that I’m finally coming clean.
Asher nods, but there’s still that distant look on his face.
“Don’t worry,” I add, wondering if he’s worried about me disclosing our relationship as well. “I’m not planning on overwhelming them with too many revelations at once. I’ll start with the writing before easing them into the idea of us. I’m not sure that ‘by the way, I’m dating this older guy I met at a sex club’ will go down well.” I smile at him.
“Thanks for the PR strategy,” he says dryly.
“You’re welcome.” I sit up and reach for him.
He leans in instinctively, his arms wrapping around me, his mouth claiming mine. His kiss isn’t gentle. It’s hungry and hard and sends shots of desire through my body that have no place being there when he needs to leave.
But I kiss him back anyway. I don’t want to forget this. Don’t want to forget the way he feels. Not when I have to go face my family and tell them I’m not who they think I am.
When he pulls away, he stares at me for a moment, his breath soft against my cheek. I close my eyes and think about earlier. The way he felt as we made love, because that’s what it was.
The way he moved inside of me like he never wanted to stop.
The way he told me he was loving me.
I’m still not sure he realizes what he said. But those words are imprinted on my brain.
I’m falling in love with him. Or, let’s face it, I’ve fallen. I can’t be without him anymore.
And I don’t want to try.
I let out a ragged breath. I want to tell him how I feel. But it’s so not the right time. “Why does it always feel like we’re saying goodbye?” I ask.
Asher’s gaze holds mine. Then he leans in and presses his mouth against my brow, lingering for a beat too long.
Like it hurts to pull away.
“It’s not goodbye,” he says quietly. “We both have things to sort out. You’re going to face your brothers and finish your book. I’ve got to handle this shit with the breach. And then we’ll be together again.”
“Where?” It comes out before I can stop it. I hate feeling needy, but that’s what I am right now.
“Here,” he says. “Or Liberty. I don’t care. But we’ll be together. And we’ll make some plans.”
His words wrap around my heart like a promise.
“You’d better be there when I typethe end,” I tell him. “I’ll want to celebrate.”
His lips curl into a genuine smile. “I’ll be there,” he promises. “I’m planning on giving you some ideas for the sequel.”
His phone buzzes again. He rolls his eyes, and I smile at him. “Good luck.”
He gives me a wink. “Right back at you. Let me know when you get to Virginia.”
“I will,” I promise.
He kisses me again, and then he’s gone. The door clicks behind him and I let myself fall back on the mattress, turning my head to his pillow. It’s still dented. Still smells of him.
Tomorrow is going to be interesting. But suddenly I’m not scared of my brothers’ reactions.
Because I finally know exactly what I want.