Page 101 of The Woman Left Behind

“It’s got to be a pain.”

“Am I acting like it’s a pain?”

I thought about it, then said, “No. But you wouldn’t.”

“All right, let’s do this,” he stated in a way, even if I wasn’t sure what “this” was, I was both excited to find out and scared shitless.

I didn’t get the chance to voice my dichotomy of emotions at his announcement.

He “did this.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be here. Expanding on that, I’m very aware of what’s being communicated that I’m here. If I wasn’t serious about what we’re doing, if I wasn’t into you, if I didn’t want to know you better, if I wasn’t in a place I was ready and willing to put in that work, and aware I was doing it and what I was saying by doing it, I wouldn’t be here. But I’m here, Lillian. My dogs are here. My uniforms are here. My shampoo is here. This is not a hardship. I’m not making a sacrifice. I’m not racking up brownie points. I’m doing what I need to do for a woman I care about who is going through a seriously shit time. You are not taking advantage of me. If we were casual, or I had doubts, or I simply wasn’t sure, believe me, I would not be here. I would not make that statement. But again…I’m here.”

He was there.

Right there.

And I wasn’t breathing.

“Now, are you with me on that?” he demanded.

“Yes,” I wheezed.

“Finally,” he muttered, like he’d been trying to convince me of something for millennia, and it took me that long to believe him.

Therefore, my eyes grew squinty. “You’ll have to cut me some slack. I found you during that seriously shit time. I don’t want you to think I’m some emotional leech or something.”

“My job is dealing with people in their shittiest times,” he reminded me. “I’ve met those kinds of emotional leeches. I know you aren’t that.”

“Well…good, I guess.” I said, like it wasn’t.

His shadowed head angled to the side. “Are we sliding into an argument about how much I like you and am glad we met so I could be here for you, and me knowing you’re not an emotional leech?”

“No.”

But…yeah.

I was still kind of snapping.

“Christ, she wants my dick,” he muttered like I wasn’t there.

“Well…yeah.” Totally still snapping. “Harry, have you seen your body?”

Another moment of stillness before his laughter boomed through the room.

I slapped part of that fabulous body, particularly his pectoral.

“Girls need it too,” I declared.

His face dipped close. “Are you gonna play on my guilt and my innate nature to protect and provide to get yourself some of my cock?”

“Will it work?”

“No.”

I huffed again.

Harry chuckled again but shifted us, so he was on his back, and I was draped down his side (again, this was not making things better!).

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