Page 124 of My Secret Bandit

No more thinking. I shut my brain off and dove headfirst, letting my heart be my guide. It said,Leap. Free fall into his arms and he will catch you. He will love you and protect you, and he’ll make damn sure he never hurts you again.

Following my heart’s word, I sprung forward, my hands cupped his jaw and my mouth pressed against his. He hissed against me, his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me across his lap, our bodies pressing together. I missed his lips. The sweet and subtle flavor of him welcomed me home with an eager sweep of his tongue. The hints of pain and sadness only encouraged me to dive further and mend his own broken heart.

He leaned back, breaking the kiss, his eyes searching mine. “Move back in. Please. I need you here.”

I nodded as his lips came back to mine and his hands moved across my back, my hair, my face, ass, and thighs. Caressing every inch like he was starved, and my body supplied the only food he craved.

“Fucking finally,” Xander called out, his voice putting a pause on our kiss. Without seeing him, I knew a smile played on his lips. Probably the first real one he wore all week. Breathing heavy, with our foreheads laid together, we listened as he continued, “Get your asses in here. You can finish that later. Preferably when there’s not a small, curious child bound to walk in on you.”

“He really knows who to ruin the mood, huh?” I chuckled, burying my face in the curve of Mateo’s neck.

“Not even Xander, in all his ill-timed, interrupting glory, could ruin this.” And for the first time all week, a genuine smile emerged, and the slightest twinkle settled back into his eyes.

One soft lingering kiss later we walked hand in hand back to the kitchen.

Ever the multitasker, Xander looked at his phone while he pulled aluminum to-go containers from a paper bag, leaving the room to fill with the smell of garlic bread and different Italian dishes.

“Team’s celebrating their win tonight. I don’t know if you’re up for it, but everyone wants you to come,” he said to Mateo, long lashes lifting from the still lit screen.

Mateo made a noncommittal sound while he worked his suit jacket off his shoulders and tossed it over the couch. “I’ll go if Jameson goes.”

My saucer-sized eyes and confused, guilt-stricken look were enough that he continued.

“Mari was always the first to celebrate even the smallest thing. First playoff win in almost a decade is definitely something she would’ve wanted us to enjoy.” With long, quiet steps, he closed the distance between us and rubbed soothingly against my arms.

“Exactly. While the pain is immense, you need to keep living your lives. All of you.” Thomas said with a serious stare that stayed on each of us for a few beats. “No more taking life for granted. If something makes you happy, do it. Don’t miss out on what’s important because the grief is too much. She wouldn’t have wanted that. Being happyisokay. Never feel guilty about that.“ His sight stayed on me and Mateo.

I knew we all needed to go back to normal. But after a week in basic solitude, surrounded by sadness and guilt and grief, was it so easy to just push those emotions to the side so we could start living again? Mateo wanted to go. I saw it in his eyes. The team wanted him there. They wanted to check on him and Xander, and they could provide them with the distraction they both needed.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh.

“Jamie, your fairy sized pit bull says if I don’t tell you to check your messages, she’s cutting off my—“ with Benny glaring at him he choked on the word, looked down and gave me a knowing look.

Giving in to his pleas, I retrieved my phone from the bedroom.

The notifications showed over twenty unanswered texts. Most condolences and check-ins. Sierra’s messages took over half the count. Like most, she started offering her sympathy and checking to see if we needed anything. Somewhere around unanswered message number seven, she got worried. Instead of wasting my time with the rest of them, I dialed her, and she picked up on the first ring.

“About fucking time! I’ve been worried,” she said in a rushed breath.

“Apparently. Xander is cupping his manhood as we speak.”

“Good! He told me to leave you alone. He said, and I quote, ‘she’s busy getting fondled.’ I thought you went to a funeral, not a fucking orgy?”

My cheeks blazed at the thought of Xander or Mateo’s parents or Amelia seeing us earlier.

“Something you’d like to share, ma’am?” Her voice turned devilish over the phone.

“We’re going to a party later if you want to go.”

“God. Y’all do funerals weird. Wait. Is Sir Shithead going?” Her voice took on a vulnerable tone and I could almost hear her blushing through the speaker.

“Why, Sierra? Do you want Xander to go?” I asked.

“I’ll be there in thirty,” she groaned, like the thought of attending a party with the guy she secretly crushed on was pure torture.

Me: Come here, please.

As soon as I sent the message, the bottoms of Mateo’s shoes tapped across the hardwood floor, up the stairs and into the bedroom.

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