Page 115 of Inked in Bloom
The mist filtering overhead barely alleviates the heat coursing through me. I drag my palm down, undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. When I get to the third, he clasps a hand around mine, tucking it behind his back.
“The night you stayed and helped me with the girls meant so much to me. To all of us. And I know I haven’t been able to take you out and court you properly the way I’d like…” His voice is restrained as it wars with the sweetness perfuming the air. “But there’s something I need to be clear about when it comes to us.”
At the wordusI hold my breath.
Something unreadable flits through his stare. “Did you see anything when the bond took hold?”
“Not really.” I try to recall the day the mate mark appeared. “There was a strange dream beforehand, but that was it.”
“Were you in a hospital?”
“Yes.”
“You saw my only mortal memory.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “When the bond is being tethered, mortal memories are shared between mates.”
The hand absentmindedly twisting with his locks stills and my brows furrow. “I’m not sure I understand…”
I pull my hand back, but he catches it and brings both of ours together, tucking mine within the shelter of his own. The rose swirling his knuckles moves in time with his thumbs stroking up and down my wrists.
“I saw your life, Monroe. Saw you grow up with parents you felt you had to please. Watched your friendship grow with Charlotte. How she got sick and you cared for her. Then you had her parents to care for, your patients, Jessica.” He bends his knees, dropping into my line of sight. “You’ve always taken care of everyone around you.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” My eyes sting, and I blink rapidly, hating how fragile I feel.
“It’s not. It’s incredible.” He blows out a breath. “But who took care of you?”
Nails dig into my palms. The pain echoes through my veins. “I did.”
“Exactly.” His brows lift like I should understand, but I don’t. “That’s what worries me.”
I pull my fists out from his hold and step back. “What does this have to do with me helping with Juni?”
The space between us might as well be an ocean.
“If you want to help, then of course, do it. But not as a professional or out of some misplaced need to be helpful.” His hands slide into his pockets, and he looks around as if he’s searching for the words.
“What are you saying?”
When his eyes zip to mine, the room is stripped of all its oxygen.
“You’re my mate, Monroe. I know you’re still figuring out what it means to you, but to me, it means building a life, a family, with you.” He slams his palm over his mate mark. “You have nothing to prove to earn my love. You have it.”
I stare at the foxgloves climbing up over where hisfingers are now splayed. “What if there was no bond between us?”
“What do you mean?”
“If Fate hadn’t made us mates, would you still feel that way?”
“Yes.” His answer comes without hesitation. It’s a plea, rich and guttural, tugged up by the roots from within the deepest part of him.
“How can you say that with so much certainty?”
“Because I fell for you long before I had this.” He curls his fingers in, clawing at his chest. “I fell for the woman who ordered takeout to eat on mismatched plates she painted herself. The woman who watchedSmash or Passand danced in a smelly shirt and created art in her tiny apartment. The one who showed up in my classroom full of brilliance, ready to take on Fate.”
He takes a step forward. Then another. Another. Until he’s swallowed up the ocean between us.
He sweeps back my mint-green strands and tucks them behind my ear. “I’ve fallen for every iteration of you. I’d claim them all and every one to come.”
There are no words, only the wobble of my chin.
