He Called Our Night a Mistake, So I Raised His Daughter Without Him novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: The Terms

Nico picked Rosetta up at four on Saturday, and by seven I had broken my own rule.

It took less than ten minutes after Sullivan walked in.

He had brought takeout from the Thai place Rosetta liked, and I had put out two plates and no wine, and we sat across from each other at the table and barely spoke.

"Pass the rice."

"Here."

His fingers brushed mine on the bowl, and I felt it all the way up my arm.

He put his fork down.

"I can't do this," he said.

"Eat your dinner."

"I can't sit across from you for ninety days and eat dinner." His voice was low and rough. "I've been thinking about you since Tuesday. I haven't had a clean thought since Tuesday."

"We have terms."

"I know we do."

"You agreed."

"I did. Tell me to go and I'm out the door."

I should have said it.

I looked at his mouth, and at the white bandage on his hand, and I thought about a gym and a porch and a letter he claimed to have written.

"Ninety days," I said. "That's what I said."

"Yes."

I got up.

I walked around the table and stood in front of his chair, and he looked up at me with his hands flat on his thighs, not touching me, not moving.

"Seven years," I said. "I'm so angry at you I can't see straight."

"I know."

"I still want you."

"Carina."

"Don't say anything. Don't be good about it."

I sat down in his lap.

He made a rough sound, and his hands came up and hovered at my waist, shaking.

"Touch me."

"You're sure."

"Sullivan."

That was all it took.

He pulled me against him and kissed me, and it wasn't like the kitchen.

It was slower and deeper, and he held my face in both hands.

I opened for him and felt his tongue slide against mine, and I moaned into his mouth.

I pulled at his shirt, and he lifted his arms and let me drag it off.

His chest was broader than I remembered, with new scars across the ribs, a long one and two small ones.

I put my mouth on the long one, and he swore.

"Bed," he said hoarsely. "Please. Not here."

"Not the couch?"

"Not tonight."

He carried me down the hall with my legs around his waist, and he didn't stumble once.

He laid me on my own bed and stood over me, breathing hard, and I watched his eyes go over me slowly, from my hair to my bare feet.

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