Page 76 of This Wild Heart

By the time I toweled off my face and walked across the hall into my old room, Anya had settled a sleeping Leo into his bassinet and changed into a big, baggy T-shirt that hung past her hips, the ratty hem of her sleep shorts the only thing that told me she was wearing anything else.

It wasn’t the Bob Marley shirt, and something in my chest unclenched that she’d been thoughtful enough not to pack that one. Her eyes snagged on mine briefly before I tugged at the back of my shirt and pulled it over my head.

We danced around each other in the room, which didn’t have much space beyond the king-sized bed in the middle, a desk tucked into the corner, and a dresser on the far wall opposite of the double closet. The big window in the middle overlooked the backyard, and Anya pulled the shades down, keeping her back conspicuously turned while I shucked off my shorts and traded them for some lightweight joggers.

“Which side do you prefer?” she asked, her back still turned.

“You can sleep by the baby,” I told her.

When Anya turned around, her eyes dipped to my bare chest, then she breathed an audible sigh of relief at the sight of my joggers. Her attention shifted to the baby, and she smiled faintly at the little snuffling sound he made in his sleep.

“When do you think your family will realize you haven’t been holding him?”

My chest was tight as I pulled back the sheets on the bed and slid underneath. With an arm braced behind my head, I watched her do the same. Anya adjusted the pillows, staying firmly on her side of the bed. Between us was a substantial amount of mattress, and it was probably best that it remain that way.

“Not long,” I said with a wry grin. “Unfortunately, they’re like bloodhounds when it comes to sniffing out when something’s wrong. It’s really fucking annoying.”

Her eyes were serious. “Because they love you.”

“I suppose.”

A stray piece of hair slid down her cheek, and unable to help myself, I reached out and pushed it back behind her ear. Anya’s eyes fluttered shut. “We can’t,” she whispered.

“What if we pretend we can?”

Her breath was unsteady, and it took her a long moment to open her eyes. “Parker …”

“I know,” I rasped. I exhaled slowly, turning onto my back to rest my hands on my stomach as I tried to wrench my thoughts under control. Being home was harder than I thought. The memories seeped in the walls, and I couldn’t look anywhere without feeling an explosion. One after another after another. But losing myself in her … it was fucking bliss. Everything in my head went staticky quiet, my focus sharpening to her and her alone. What made her eyes go hazy. What made those little sounds escape her sweet mouth. What made her legs shake and her toes curl. I could do that. Make her feel incredible.

Losing myself in her was the best kind of diversion from … everything. All the shit I couldn’t erase, all the things resurfaced from being back here. If I kissed her, she’d melt. We’d melt into each other, and in my head, it was so easy to tell myself that it wouldn’t hurt anything.

But tomorrow, we’d still have all the same problems.Iwould have all the same problems. So instead of pushing it, I lay there and stared at the ceiling until the sound of Anya’s breathing went slow and steady and even. Only then did I close my eyes, but it was a long time before sleep claimed me.

Chapter 19

Anya

The clock glowed blue on the nightstand, the numbers flipping from 1:36 to 1:37 when I pried my eyes open to the sound of Leo’s disgruntled cries. It was a three-and-a-half-hour stretch of sleep that time, but my brain didn’t latch onto that very long because something else got there first.

What if we pretend we can?

As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, his voice echoed like a gunshot in my head. He was almost impossible to say no to, and everything in my body screamed at me not to do that anyway.Why would we say no? Orgasms, Anya! Big, happy, I’ll-have-what-she’s-having orgasms. Why the actual hell would we say no?

It was my head, however, that urged caution.

Don’t be that girl. The one who ignores every warning flag and every caution sign because the man knows where your clit is. We are smarter than that.

My heart … she was quiet. She was waiting to weigh in, and that scared me just as badly.

Behind me, Parker shifted out of bed too, flipping back the covers while I leaned over the bassinet to find Leo’s pacifier. Weak light flooded the room courtesy of a small lamp on Parker’s side of the bed, and my heart banged like a drum that he was waking up with me. It would have been so much easier on my sanity if he slept through the whole damn thing. Leo was squirming, clearly not happy with the food-free substitute I’d given him.

“Oh my, look at that grumpy face,” I whispered. “Give me a couple of minutes, little man.”

I waited for the sound of the door, assuming that Parker was getting up to use the bathroom, but instead, the pop of the formula lid had me glancing over my shoulder. He’d already unscrewed the first bottle—I’d pre-measured two of them before we went to bed—and gave me an inscrutable look before adding a scoop.

“Two, right?” he asked in a sleep-roughened voice.

With a dry throat and hammering heart, I nodded a little.

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