Page 145 of Unravel Me

“I have this little notebook. Sometimes I get questions when I’m reading, and I write them down so I can ask you later.” Shame creeps up my neck, uncertainty pulling the notebook into my chest, hiding it. “That’s weird. I’m saying it out loud and hearing how weird that sounds. You might not have wanted to get back together. And if you did—”

“I do.”

I swallow again. “You might not want me to be that involved. You two already have a family. You might not need me, not the same way I need you.”

Rosie looks at me, this crease in her eyebrow like she’s trying to process the words. She closes her eyes, gives her head this tiny shake, then steps forward, taking the notebook from my hands, lacing her fingers through mine. “We need you.”

“You do?”

“Of course. But more than we need you, Adam, wewantyou.”

My chest pulls taut, threatening to break open from the strain of my thrashing heart. “Really? Because I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you and Connor, Rosie. Not a single thing, not even hockey. I want to be your partner, and I want to do all the things together. The adventurous things and the quiet, lazy things. I want to do all the happy things, and all the sad, hard things, too, as long as I’m doing them with you. I want to keep loving Connor exactly the way I do, like he’s mine,ours, because he fucking feels like it. That kid owns my heart, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t hope one dayDadawon’t just be a name he calls me because it’s a phase, but because I’m the man he can count on to be there for him all the damn time.”

“Oh my God,” Rosie murmurs. “I love you.”

My racing heart skids to a stop. “You what?”

Her eyes widen, and she lets go of my hands. She steps back, and I step forward. “I-I-I…I have to shower!” She spins, racing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

I stare at it for three seconds before I go after her.

Rosie’s pacing the room, eyes closed, fingers pressed to her temples. I’m certain she doesn’t even hear me enter, not above the roar of the shower and her incessant chanting.

“Think with your brain, not with your tits. Think with your brain, not with your tits. Think with your brain, not with your tits.” She throws her arms in the air. “I mean, seriously, Rosie, it’s not that damn hard!”

“Why?”

Rosie squeals, spinning to me. “Adam. You heard that.”

“Why?” I repeat, backing her against the counter.

Her eyes bounce between mine as she fumbles for something to grab onto, something that isn’t me. “Why what?”

“Why do you love me?”

“Oh,that?” She waves a flappy hand through the air, gigging anxiously. “Psssh. That was so silly. I love you? Yeah, I say that all the time. Bus driver? ‘Hey, thanks for the ride, dude. I love you!’ Cashier at the grocery store? ‘Thanks for bagging my groceries! Love ya!’” Another shrill giggle, andfuck me, I love her hot mess express side.

“Why?” My hand goes to her jeans, and her stomach jumps as I skim the waistband. “Gimme the reasons,” I murmur as I pop the button, slowly dragging the denim over her full hips, down her luscious thighs. Christ, she’s already wet for me, and we haven’t even begun. The dark spot in the center of those dusty rose panties begs me to taste her, to dive my tongue inside her and lick her clean.

And I plan to.

Tonight, I’m taking her back.

Tonight, I’m fuckingdonewith slow.

My palms skate up her sides, over her hips and the dip in her waist, dragging her shirt up, guiding her arms above her head as she lets me slip it right off. I reach around her back, flicking the clip on her bra, a guttural groan rumbling in my chest as her perfect, full tits spring free.

Our gazes crash as I scrape my thumbs over her tight nipples, her breath sputtering past her lips.

“Reasons, Rosie. Now.”

“I don’t feel alone anymore,” she blurts, then licks her lip, watching as my fingers creep down her belly. Her eyes flip back to mine. “And it’s not about having someone. It’s about havingyou. It’s about knowing you’re my partner, not just a warm body at my side. It’s the good morning texts and showing up at the bus stop because it’s raining. It’s running me a bath and forcing me to unwind while you spend time with Connor. It’s double-checking my Starbucks order in case the cooler weather has made me want a warm drink instead of an iced one. It’s my favorite tea in your cupboards and a fresh T-shirt waiting for me to slip on for bed. It’s loving my son like he’s your own, accepting both of us without hesitation.” Her lashes flutter, voice lowering. “It’s naming the scholarship after the house I grew up in, peonies beneath my parents’ tree marking and peonies in your front yard, just so I know my parents are with me. Because I feel you everywhere, Adam, even when you’re not here.”

Something shutters in her eyes, a hesitancy that tames my hunger for a moment.

I rest my forehead against hers. “What are you afraid of, Rosie?”

“Losing you,” she whispers. “Connor’s is the only love I’ve ever got to keep.”

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