Page 60 of His Obsession
“You deserve someone who makes you feel safe,” I continue. “If that isn’t me, I’ll find a way to be okay. But I can’t keep being the guy you regret being with.”
She lets out a shaky breath that almost turns into a laugh. “I want to try.”
I stare at her, not sure I heard her right. “What?”
“I want to try,” she says again, clearer this time. “With you. I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t know how good I’m going to be at it, and I’m probably going to freak out a lot, but I want to try.”
I take a second before I answer, because if I respond too fast, I’m going to say something too honest or too possessive, and we’ve made it this far without me fucking it up completely.
“All right,” I say.
Her brows pull together. “That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Something dramatic. You’re very intense, so I expected more.”
I move closer. “I’m trying not to scare you off.”
I slide a hand to her waist, giving her time to step back. She doesn’t. Her hands come to my chest again, more certain this time.
“I’m still scared,” she admits.
“I know.”
“But not of you. Not right now.”
I lower my head and kiss her. This time, I don’t stop. I guide her upstairs slowly, partly because she’s pregnant and exhausted, partly because I need her to know she can change her mind at any point. She doesn’t. She keeps her hand in mine the whole way, and when we reach my room, she’s the one who pulls me down to kiss her again.
23
VALENTINA
Iwake up slowly. Sebastian’s arm is wrapped around my waist and it makes me feel anchored. For a few seconds, I just lie there in his bed, staring at the pale morning light slipping through the curtains, waiting for my body to start panicking. It never does.
For months after Adrian, I could barely sleep in my own bed without checking the locks twice. Sleeping beside anyone else would’ve been unthinkable. Waking up with an arm around me would’ve sent me straight for the door, probably with one shoe on and no bra.
Instead, I’m still here. That feels important.
Sebastian shifts behind me, his fingers flexing against my stomach before he fully wakes. I look down at his hand and try not to think too much about how natural it feels there.
“You’re awake,” he says, his voice rough with sleep.
“Unfortunately.”
His mouth brushes my shoulder. “Did you not sleep well?”
“I’m pregnant and hiding from my deranged ex. I haven’t slept well in months.”
“That’s fair.”
I turn carefully until I’m on my back. He props himself up on one elbow and looks down at me, hair messy, face still half asleep. It’s irritating how attractive he is before he’s even showered. I’ve spent years perfecting my morning routine, and he wakes up looking like a print model.
“You okay?” he asks.
I know what he’s asking. He wants to know if I regret last night. If I woke up scared. If thetryingwe agreed to after dinner survived until morning. I take a second because I don’t want to lie to him, but I also don’t want to hand him more than I can actually give.
“I think I’m okay,” I tell him honestly. It’s the best I can offer.
