Page 50 of Shatter

"Have you talked to her?" Cass asks.

I nod.

"And?"

"I told her I'd be whatever she needed me to be, for as long as she needs it."

"And what do you need?"

Nothing. No one.

But as I watch Melody pouring a vodka soda for a couple at the bar, a niggling of hope latches onto my heart.

What if she did want more? What if she wanted forever? What if this didn't have to end?

Ignoring the rest of the world, would I want that?

Yes. Yes, I would. I've loved having her in my condo. I love when she wears my clothes and walks around my condo barefoot. I love when we cuddle on the couch together. I love how easy conversation is with her over breakfasts and dinners. I love how she wants me. It might be the first time I've felt that.

I've had women flirt or flaunt themselves at me, but it's for sex. It's for my reputation as a dom. They don't want the real me. They don't know the real me.

Melody does.

Cass stands, slapping me on the shoulder.

"When the time comes, just don't stand in your own way, okay brother?"

I nod stupidly; my brain warring with my heart. Logic or love? Realism or hope? Now or forever?

Chapter twenty-five

Melody

Family dinner is tonight, and I'm nervous. They're not even here yet, and I feel like an outsider - an interloper. I'm pacing nervously through Harrison's condo. I got dressed and did my makeup hours ago and now have nothing to do to keep myself busy. Anxiety is a bitch.

The doorbell rings. I was expecting it, and still, I startle.

Harrison's in the shower, so I open the door to an Uber Eats driver, arms ladened with bags.

I'm quick to help him offload everything and bring it into the kitchen.

He calls out a quick "have a good night, ma'am," before letting the door shut behind him. Luckily, he didn't even look at me long enough to recognize me.

I take all of the containers out of the bags and start to unload them. But what if they want to hang out before eating? Then the food will get cold. So I snap the container lids back on. But then what do I do with all this food? Put it in the oven to keep warm? I start loading them into the oven, but then second-guess myself. Is that dumb? Are they going to tease me for putting the containers in the oven?

God, I hate how stupid I am sometimes. I feel like a newborn fawn learning how to walk, or an alien just landed on this planet having to pretend I'm human.

Luckily, the water from the shower stops, and a few minutes later Harrison appears, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. It's the first time I've seen him in anything other than sweats and a suit. And Goddamn, I like the look. His thick thighs stretch the fabric of his jeans deliciously. His scars are still mostly hidden, but poke up out of the neckline of his shirt, and down one elbow.

His shirt is so tight it might as well have been painted on. His thick pecs and biceps are on display, and I itch to run my tongue across them.

He catches me checking him out and graces me with one of those rare smiles that has my heart galloping in return.

"See something you like?" he teases.

"Yes," I reply immediately.

I love how comfortable he is around me now. Before, he was grumpy and high-strung around me; constantly frowning, constantly disapproving. Now he smiles and teases me and cuddles. God, how have I gotten this lucky? If you'd asked me a year ago if I thought Harrison was a cuddler I'd think you were out of your mind.