Page 70 of Anteros' Return

“Good, I feel the same!” I matched her laughter for a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, the food was incredible, but I could have eaten so much more.”

“Pizza it is then.” She pulled out her phone from her clutch and scrolled through the delivery app. “The Pizza Loft?”

“Are they still open?” I was shocked. That pizzeria had been there since before I moved into town all those years ago.

“Of course, they’re the best of the best.” She stepped inside the elevator, her heels clicking against the marble. “We always did love a half-and-half, didn’t we?”

“Half BBQ chicken, half cheese and pineapple.” I chuckled before turning to face her. “I still cannot believe you like pineapple on pizza.”

“You’ve never tried it so you wouldn’t know how good it is.” She stuck her tongue out before leaning her head on my shoulder as the elevator ascended upwards to the seventh floor.

As we came to a stop, I placed my hand on the small of her back, ushering her carefully into the corridor. I limped slightly from the pain radiating up my leg. I tried to hide it, but obviously not well enough because she saw it.

“Are you okay?” She slowed, syncing her steps with mine. “Did you overdo it?” She barely gave me a moment to answer before continuing. “Oh, god, Beckett, you did, didn’t you?!”

“Em, will you relax? I’m fine. It just aches a little,” I lied.

“I know you’re lying. Don’t try it with me.” She opened the door with her keycard. Clearly, I’d forgotten how well she knew me.

Despite the ache and annoying pain, I paced back and forth. I was anxious, to say the least, about Liam’s birthday. I’d missed so damn many, and while I knew that wasn’t my fault it didn’t make me feel any better.

What present did I get him?!

I wanted to make a great impression, and not just for Liam, but for Em too. I wanted to show her I was fully ready to step up and be a dad. She’d done incredible on her own for years, but now she didn’t have to.

“Beckett, are you okay?” I came to a sudden halt at the sound of Emily’s voice, my breath catching, as my eyes lingered on her. She stood there, poised yet effortlessly unguarded. She wore a burgundy satin two-piece, that shimmered softly in the light, tracing the lines of her waist and hips, leaving just enough to my imagination. Her skin glowed, unadorned by makeup, the natural flush of her cheeks only adding to her beauty. “Why are you pacing? You’ll wear a hole in the carpet.”

“I’ve never spent a birthday with Liam, Em. What if I fuck it up?” I couldn’t hide the worry in my voice.

“Beckett, you won’t. I know you won’t.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as she took a step closer. Her delicate hand, soft and warm, rested lightly on my forearm. The contact was so subtle, yet it felt as though the air between us crackled with a quiet intensity.

“What do I even get him? I know he loves football, but that’s all I know about him, really.”

“He will love whatever you get him. I know he was a little prickly at the start with you, but you have to know that he idolises you. Having you in his life is precious for me to see.” She flashed me a pearly white smile, but my attention instantly landed on the adorable freckles that decorated the apples of her cheeks.

“Emily—”

“The past is the past, Beckett. You don’t need to apologise anymore.” The warmth of her breath skated across my skin as I remembered I was in nothing but a pair of sweats. “Now, do me a favour and lay on your front on the bed for me.”

I looked at her with a confused expression, unsure where she was going with this.

“You missed your massage today, didn’t you?” she asked. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She seemed so confident, something she used to struggle with around me.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on missing the wedding.”

“Now, do as you’re told for once and lay on your front for me, please.” She demanded it sweetly, and it was then that I noticed the bottle of vanilla-scented body lotion in her other hand.

“Why?” As her other hand remained on my arm, my mind wandered to all the times she had touched me with her dainty fingers. Her touch was unlike any other. Her hands were divine, gentle, and full of love, and I wondered if at some point they still would be.

“Beckett, you missed a session for me. Let me help you.” Her eyes moved to the side, directing me to the bed.

“I now remember how persuasive you were.” I chuckled as I did as she asked, relaxing on my front while I was surrounded by cushions.

She knelt down beside my injured ankle, carefully placing it across her thighs. She pushed the leg of my sweats up high enough to expose my ankle. “Is that okay?” she whispered, obviously worried she’d hurt me more.

“It’s all good, thank you.” I watched her delicate, slow movements.

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