My eyes lower. “I don’t know, Zeus.”
“Please, Dove.”
I look back into his pleading eyes. Eyes I’ve loved since I was fifteen. And I whisper, “Okay.”
We’re in Zeus’s car, driving to whatever it is that he wants me to see.
Lady Gaga’s “The Edge of Glory” is playing on the radio, and I’m wondering if he remembers when he says quietly, “Our prom song.”
I glance at him. His eyes meet mine in the dark.
“Yeah,” I say softly.
Cliché as it is, it was after my senior prom that we had sex for the first time.
We’d been together for two years. We’d done pretty much everything but the act itself. I was ready. It was him that always held back.
He wanted to wait until I was eighteen. I was a few months shy of my eighteenth birthday. I didn’t want to wait. Most of my high school friends had lost their virginity at sixteen. I was dating the hottest guy in Coney Island…the world…and I was still a virgin.
Anyway, he took me to prom, and it was everything I could have hoped it would be. Then, after, Zeus surprised me with a room in a really nice hotel. He was making half-decent money from his fights by that point. It wasn’t long after that when he went to the Olympics and came back with gold, and his career took off.
The beginning of our end.
So, yeah, I had given him my body that night. He’d already had my heart.
I never did quite get it back the same.
I break eye contact and look out the passenger window of his car. He’s driving down a private road. A lake is on the right.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He turns into a driveway, pulling to a stop outside a beautiful, big, old colonial-style house with a wraparound porch.
“We’re here,” he says, turning off the engine. He gets out of the car.
Confused, I follow him.
“Here, where?” I ask, shutting the car door.
He turns to face me. “Home.”
“This is yours?”
“Ours.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I step forward, closer, sure I must’ve heard him wrong.
“It’s ours. Yours, mine, and Gigi’s. I bought it.”
Then, he turns and walks up the porch steps. He unlocks the door.
My body kicks into action, and I follow him into the house. I step into a wide hallway. Staircase in front. Doors off to the sides.
I shut the door behind me and lean against it. “What do you mean, it’s mine, yours, and Gigi’s?”
“I bought it for us. I don’t really know how else to phrase it.”
I blankly stare at him. “You bought us a house.”
“You need to know I’m not going anywhere.” He spreads his arms out. “I’m not going anywhere, Dove. I bought this house because I want to be where you and Gigi are. And I’m hoping that, one day, you both will come to live here with me.”
I’m still staring at him. I think I’ve gone into shock. My heart is beating wildly. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Believe it.”
“It’s too much.”
“No.” He steps close to me, wrapping his hands around my biceps. “It’s what needed to be done. This is me showing you that I’m not leaving. I tried telling you, and it didn’t work. So, all I’ve got left are actions. I’m here to stay. This house is ours. I want us to live here as a family. I want to put my daughter to bed every night and then climb into bed beside you.”
It sounds like everything I used to want. And that’s why I say, “I can’t move in with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I’m faltering for a reason as to why not, so I state the obvious, “We’re not together.”
“Babe, we’re together, even when we’re not.”
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out because he’s right. Even when I wasn’t with him, when I was hating him, I was still his because I could never truly let him go. And it was the same for him.
“We have history, Dove. But we have a future together, too. And our future is in this house.” His hands slide up my arms to cradle my face. “The moment I saw this place, I saw us. Do you remember how we used to talk about one day having a house near the water with a wraparound porch, filling it with our kids once we were done with our life in the city? You would dance, and I would fight. Then, when it was time, we’d both step away, move to a place just like this, and start a family. You’d open up a dance school, and I’d maybe open up a boxing gym.” His thumb sweeps over my cheek. “I know it didn’t go the way we’d planned. I know that was because of me. But we can still have it. Still have the life we talked about together, starting now.”
“You’d give up boxing?”
He holds my eyes. “After the Dimitrov fight. Once I bank that money, I’m done.”
I exhale. “Zeus, I don’t want you to stop boxing. I don’t want you to give your career up because you think that’s what I want.”
“I want to be here with you and Gigi, and…I don’t feel the same about it like I used to. Before, I used to love the thrill of the fight. Of course, the money mattered. But, now…that’s all it’s about.”
“But the problem between you and me isn’t the boxing, Zeus.”
“You think I don’t know that? You don’t trust me to stay. You think I’m going to walk out on you again and never come back.”
My eyes lower. He forces them back up.
“I can’t prove it to you unless you give me the chance to.”
He’s right. I know he’s right.
But fear is a cruel thing. It strangles you. Cripples you. Stops you from saying the words you wish you could say.
He must see my internal struggle because he slips his hands from my face. Running one down my arm, he takes hold of my hand.
“Let me show you around.”
I go with him, and he first takes me to the living room that has a gorgeous antique fireplace, but the decor is dated, as is the kitchen. Zeus tells me that he got the house for a good price for those reasons. That it won’t cost a lot to update it.
As he gives me the tour, I can see the three of us living here. And that thought terrifies me.
“There are four bedrooms,” he tells me as we reach the upstairs. “Gigi will have her pick from three. I think she’ll love the bedroom at the front, as it overlooks the lake, but this”—he leads me toward an open door—“is the master. It has its own bathroom and balcony.”
I step into the room. It’s big and airy. The wallpaper on the walls is faded and peeling. But it’s still amazing.
Wordlessly, I walk over to the doors leading out onto the balcony.
I turn the key in the lock, open them, and step outside.
The view is stunning. It overlooks the back garden and woodland behind the home. It’s private and secluded. A piece of heaven.
I feel Zeus come up behind me.
“What do you think?” he says softly, his breath whispering down my neck.
“I think it’s perfect, but—”
“Don’t.” His hands on my shoulders, he turns me to face him. “Don’t say what you think you should say, what your hurt and anger are telling you to say. Tell me what’s in your heart.”
You. Always you.
I blow out a shaky breath, tears pricking at my eyes.
“Do you still love me?” he asks gently.
I can see the fear in his eyes. Fear that I’ll tell him no, turn him away again. That’s what makes me finally tell him the truth.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then, we can make this work.”
“But—”
“No buts, Dove. I love you. And you love me. We’ll make this work.”
I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. “But Gigi…I can’t risk…” I open my eyes to look at him. “I don’t want her to get attached to the idea of us in case it doesn’t work out.”
“So, we keep it between you a
nd me for now. We won’t tell Gigi that we’re together until you feel ready.”
“And what about this house?”
“It’s not going anywhere. I can work on getting it ready for us. And, when you’re ready to move in, you and Gigi, I’ll be here, waiting.”
Everything he’s saying is wonderful and perfect. But I’m scared. My pulse is racing. My heart chasing it.
“Cam…”
I blink up at him. “I’m afraid,” I confess.
Pain floods his eyes. “I hate that I did this to you.” He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He kisses my temple. “I’ll never hurt you again. I swear.” A kiss to my cheek. “Just let me back in, and I promise to spend the rest of my life taking care of you and Gigi. Let me fix us.”
“What if you can’t?” My voice is shaky.
I don’t realize I’m crying until he brushes my tears away with his thumbs.
“Can’t isn’t an option, babe. I will fix us. And you will trust me again.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, thinking—not with my fearful mind, but with my heart. The one that’s loved him for nine years.
“Okay,” I whisper, opening my eyes.
“Okay?”
“I’m willing to try. You and me.”
His face is filled with so much happiness right now that I can’t stop myself from smiling.
“Really?”
“Really. But we take it slow, and Gigi isn’t to know until we’re absolutely sure that we’re going to work out.”
“We’re gonna work, baby.”
Then, he grabs my face and kisses me as surely as his words. It’s hard not to feel his happiness and excitement even though I’m still worried, wishing that I felt the same level of assuredness that we will work out as he does.
“I fucking love you,” he says over my lips.
“I love you, too,” I tell him for the first time in a long time. It’s scary to say but also a damn relief. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to say those words to him.
He pulls back from me, staring into my eyes, his shining with emotion that clutches at my chest. “Say it again.”
I swallow nervously and lick my lips. His eyes drop to them.
“I love you.”
His eyes roam my face, like he’s memorizing the moment. Like he’s never heard me speak those words before.
I feel a drop of rain hit my cheek. Then, another. It starts to rain. A gentle shower. The air still warm.
His finger touches my cheek, tracing a raindrop down to my lips.
I’m trembling inside. Needing him to touch all of me. Kiss me.
His fingers slide into my hair. He tugs my head back. And seals his mouth over mine.
I kiss him back with fervor.
We take our time undressing each other. Hands touching every inch of skin. Like we’ve never done this before.
Each caress, each kiss, tender and unhurried. Like we have all the time in the world.
And I guess we do.
Zeus’s thick fingers dip inside me, agonizingly slow, driving me crazy. Making me desperate for him until I’m panting and begging for him to give me what I want.
Him.
Always him.
He backs me up to the wall of the house. My naked back against the wooden panels of the house. My skin wet from the rain.
I shiver. Not because I’m cold. But because of the man pressed up against me. The man I’ve always loved. The man I can’t seem to stop loving.
Zeus’s hand slides under my slick, wet thigh, lifting it, opening me up to him. He dips down until he’s eye-level with me and presses his hips against mine. I feel the head of his cock push at my entrance. My hips shift restlessly, needing him inside me more than I need air right now.
“I love you,” he whispers.
His lips brush over mine. Once. Twice. He sucks the rain off my lower lip, and then his teeth sink in, biting me, at the same moment he pushes inside me, inch by thick inch, until he’s all the way inside me.
My eyes close on a moan. I love the euphoric feeling of having him inside me again.
“Tell me you love me,” he says roughly. “I want to hear you say it while I’m deep inside you.”
And he is deep. So very deep. Under skin. He always has been.
I open my eyes and stare into his heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes. “I love you,” I tell him, breathless with need for him.
He groans, his eyes closing. He kisses me again and starts to move inside me. His rain-soaked body slick against mine.
And Zeus makes love to me out here, on the balcony of the house he bought for us, while the rain continues to shower down.
“What is it with us and rain?” I laugh softly.
We’re in the living room, lying together on the sofa that the previous owners left here, covered with a blanket that Zeus grabbed from the trunk of his car. And, yes, he ran out there, naked, to get it. Let’s hope the neighbors down the road didn’t see. Our wet clothes are drying in front of the fire that I got going while he did his birthday-suit dash. Neither of us was clever enough to put our clothes inside to stop them from getting wet while we got busy on the balcony in the rain. Guess we were too caught up in the moment. Too caught up in each other.
“Well, I do love you wet.” He turns his face to mine, grinning in that sexy way he does.
“Perv.”
“Truthful,” he counters.
I roll my eyes and shake my head, fighting to keep the smile off my face.
I’m feeling happy. It’s been a long time since I felt this kind of happiness. The happiness I’ve only ever been able to feel with him.
“All of our important moments in life seem to happen in the rain,” I muse more to myself than him.
He starts to sing off-key the words to Rihanna’s “Umbrella.”
Our song.
“Dork.” I nudge him with my elbow but secretly love that he remembers the song’s importance.
He rolls onto his side, facing me, propping his head up with his hand. The flicker of flames glowing on his face. “I’ve missed that sound.”
“What sound?”
“You laughing. Do it again.”
“I can’t laugh on command.”
“I can make you.”
“So, do it,” I challenge, raising my brow. “Just don’t sing again.”
“Funny.”
There’s a brief pause.
Then, he attacks, and he knows exactly where to go—my stomach. I’m ridiculously ticklish.
“Ah! Stop!” I laugh, trying to bat his hands away but to no avail.
“No, I haven’t heard enough.”
“Zeus!” I scream with laughter, my chest aching in the best possible way. “Come on! Stop!”
“Okay,” he grumbles, relinquishing his tickle assault on me. He flops onto his back. “I really fucking missed you,” he says quietly, turning his suddenly serious eyes to mine.
I press my hand to his chest, over his heart, touching my tattoo. “I missed you, too,” I tell him. I dip my head and kiss him.
As I pull back, his hand comes into my hair, holding me there. “I know I screwed up with us. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“I know,” I whisper.
But we both know I only half-believe that. I’m not fully in that place where I believe him yet.
He pulls me back down to his lips and languidly kisses me.
I lay my head down on his chest, tangling my legs with his.
The sound of the fire crackling in the background and the beat of his heart in my ear—this is all I need right now.
“Do you remember when you performed at the winter showcase to ‘Umbrella’?” he says out of nowhere.
“Of course I remember.” I roll my eyes. The piece I choreographed was about him and me, about how I felt about him from the moment I’d met him. How I’ve always felt about him. “Where did that come from?” I ask him, tipping my head back to look
into his eyes.
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. I remember everything about us…but it’s just one of those memories that has always stuck with me. Watching you dance was my favorite thing in the whole world. I hate that you don’t dance anymore.”
“I was dancing—at the club.” Until I quit when he made a reappearance in my life.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” His eyes darken. “I hate that you stopped because of me.”
“I stopped because I was pregnant. If you’d been there or not, I still would have had to drop out.”
“But you could have gone back if I’d been there to support you.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have gone back. What would have been the point? I had Gigi, and she was the most important thing to me. You know how ballet is. It’s grueling, long hours. I wasn’t going to spend that kind of time away from her.”
His eyes go to the ceiling. He blows out a hard breath. “Still, I should’ve been there.”
I don’t say anything. Because he’s right. He should’ve been there. I can blame Marcel for Zeus not being there for Gigi. But not for Zeus not being there for me. He’s to blame for that.
His eyes, determined and steady, come back to mine. “I will make it up to you both. I swear to you, Dove.”
I slide my hand up to his face, pressing my palm to his cheek. “You already are by just being here right now.”
But I know the look in his eyes. I know he thinks he should be doing more. Hence, the purchase of this house.
“Zeus…you didn’t have to buy this house, you know.”
I know he’s okay for money, but he’s still putting Lo and Missy through college and financially supporting his dad. He has money, but that money will also have to last him when his boxing career does finally come to an end.
His brows draw together. “Yes, I did. You need to know that I’m here to stay. And I will do whatever it takes to show you that.”
“I just…I know you have money. I just don’t want you wasting it.”
Frustration lines his eyes. “Nothing spent on you or Gigi is a waste. And I’m good for money, Cam. Don’t worry about that.”
“So, why is the Dimitrov fight so important? You said to me a while ago that you were doing it because you needed the money.”