Page 45 of Beautiful Beast

I lean back in his arms, and he easily supports my weight while I look up into his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I just… can’t have sleepovers at the moment.”

The number of secrets this man has could fill New York City. But I decide not to push, at least for right now.

“What were you doing with your uncle?”

“I’m preparing to take over the business. He’s… well, he’s dying.”

I gasp. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s a shitty blow. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. He asked me to go to Hong Kong with him while he’s still able to travel. This is going to be the least seamless transition ever, but I’m trying to cram in as much time with him as I can.”

“How long does he have?”

“About six months.”

I rise to my tiptoes so I can kiss the single tear on his cheek, the skin from his scar rough and uneven. “I’m glad you’re getting this time with him. How long will you be gone?”

“About a month. We have headquarters all over the world, and our Hong Kong operations are rapidly expanding. The team is working around the clock, and Uncle Dennis wants to be there in person to support them.”

“When do you go?”

“In three days.”

It sucks that I won’t get to see Adam for so long when we’re finally starting to make some progress, but I meant what I said about being happy for him. His uncle is clearly important to him and nothing matters more than spending time with someone you’re about to lose.

“Will you video call me?” I ask.

“You’re so girlfriendy, Belle.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

He leans down and kisses my lips. “Yes, I’ll video call you.”

“I can’t go that long without seeing your face.”

His expression softens while his grip tightens. “Why do periods take so long to go away?”

“I wonder the same thing every month.”

He releases me and heads over to the marble bar to pour us both a glass of wine. He told me that he prefers whiskey, but chooses to drink my favorite with me.

He’s pretty boyfriendy, too.

I’m cuddled up on the couch with Buster, ordering Uber Eats on my phone, when Adam returns and sets my glass on the coffee table.

“We’re going to have food in the next fifteen minutes,” I tell him.

“Awesome. You probably ordered garbage, didn’t you?”

“Chinese food.”

“Authentic or the deep-fried American version?”

“Authentic,” I promise.

“Good, otherwise I’ll have to wake up even earlier to work out longer tomorrow.”

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