Newport Beach has been my home for three years, but I’ve never had as many people knock on my door during one twenty-four-hour period as I do now.
I fling the door open, blood draining from my face instantly. I expected a Hayes, and a Hayes is here, but it’s not Logan.
It’s Nico.
He was always the one to make my bones shiver, but ever since Kaya, he downright scares me. The way he moves as if he’s a lion on the hunt; the way he glares at everyone and weighs every word has me bracing for an attack.
And he’s here, standing in the doorway to my flat, the sleeves of his black t-shirt stretching beyond the capacity of the cotton strands, his jaw squared, eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing down the column of his tattooed neck.
A part of me wants to slam the door in his face and push the loveseat against it to stop him from getting inside. It borders on insanity, just like my weak knees, but I can’t fool my brain and the dismay filling my veins with ice-cold liquid.
“Will you let me in or…?” he asks, standing there and taking almost the whole width and height of the doorframe.
My skin’s crawling, my mind like a beehive. “Is something wrong?” I manage, muscles in my neck and shoulders harder than stone. “Why are you here?”
“To talk,” he denotes, his voice like a growl of a vicious dog ready to rip out your windpipe. “Stop acting like you want to have a baseball bat in your hand right about now.”
As if a baseball bat could freaking stop him. Every muscle in his body is toned to perfection, his chest broad, shoulders square. I’m half his size at best.
The pregnancy symptom that eluded me since the start, now arrives in full force: nausea. Possible reasons behind Nico’s unannounced visit flood my mind. He’s probably here to tell me that either I move out of the way or Logan will lose his family, and it’ll be my fault.
Forcing my legs to work, I open the door further, moving out of the way to let the wolf in the hen house. He enters, the smell of his cologne soaking the air and intensifying the unease whooshing in my head.
Logan hadn’t called or texted since he left and Nico’s presence in my flat means he knows about us.
“Why are you afraid of me?” he asks, casually leaning his back against the fridge, his tattooed arms folded across his chest. “Have I ever given you a reason?”
“You’re very…” I pick a piece of lint from the sleeve of my sweater, mouth dry. “…intimidating.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Intimidating… alright, I get that a lot, but that’s no reason to act so skittish. I’ve never hurt you, Cassidy. I never said one foul word your way. I’ve never raised my voice, either, so help me out here because I sure as fuck don’t understand why you look ready to burst out crying.”
“I… I don’t feel so good.” I clasp my hand over my mouth and bolt into the bathroom.
My knees hit the tiled floor just in time. A coffee and a bagel I had this morning, and the toast from last night pour out of my mouth. Cold sweat breaks out at the back of my neck, the acidic bile setting my throat ablaze with every wave of puke landing in the toilet. Shuddering, I press the flush button on the wall and fall back on my ass, tucking my hair behind my ears.
I’m so glad I skipped morning sickness thus far.
“Here,” Nico crouches beside me, pressing a wet towel to my forehead. “Are you done, or is there more to come?”
“I’m done.” I brace one hand against the tiles to haul myself up, but Nico grips my forearm, his touch bordering on painful as he helps me up. By the look of him, I don’t think he knows he’s squeezing too hard. “Thank you,” I mutter, my eyebrows drawn together when he dabs a bit of toothpaste on my toothbrush and hands it over.
“Don’t act so surprised, Cass. You know nothing about me.”
I brush my teeth and wash my face before we move back to the kitchen, my body weak and feeble. “Why are you here, Nico? What do you want to talk about?”
He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and passes it to me, apparently feeling at home. “I want you to understand that me avoiding you has nothing to do with you. I don’t hate you, Cass. And neither do the other five.”
“Logan told you about us,” I mumble more to myself than him. A rush of inordinate relief hits me right in the gut.
They won’t turn their backs on him. He’ll still have his brothers despite choosing me.
“Yeah, he did. Just like you, I don’t know you enough to trust you, which is why I steered clear. That’s no longer a possibility, so you’ll have to learn not to be afraid of me so I can get to know you.”
My eyes pool with tears when the corners of his lips curl into a ghost of a smile. “You chose the wrong day to pay me a visit,” I whisper, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m a mess today, but thank you. I don’t think Logan would survive without his brothers for long.”
“Don’t get me started on that,” he clips, the coldness in his voice making me shiver again. “Why he thought we’d turn on him is fucking beyond me. What do you see in him? He’s obviously an idiot.”
A small chuckle breaks out of my chest. The tension, worry, and nervousness I harbored for weeks hiss out of me like air from a slashed tire. I must look comical, laughing with tears streaming down my cheeks.
“We’ll always be there for him,” Nico assures, tearing a piece of paper towel for me. “Same goes for you. You’re a part of the family now. I’m sure I won’t be your first point of contact if you ever need help, but you better put me on the list.”
I dab my eyes dry, crumpling the paper towel into a ball. “Thank you. It means more than you’ll ever know.”
The ruthless coldness to Nico’s features fades before my eyes. He’s not changed one bit, but my perception of him has during the last ten minutes. I’m still not comfortable around him, still intimidated by the vicious energy he exudes, but my skin’s not crawling right now, and that’s big.
The door to the flat opens, and Logan lets himself in without so much as a knock. His eyes land on me first, and two wrinkles crease his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, my voice breaking even though I’m smiling. “Happy tears.”
Amusement tugs at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes cut to Nico. “You made my girl cry happy tears? Who the fuck are you?”
Nico pushes away from the cabinets, squeezing Logan’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He crosses the room but turns back to look at me, his hand firmly on the handle. “Take care of my niece, Cass.”
I’m not sure what surprises me more: that Logan told them I’m pregnant or that Nico’s so certain it’ll be a girl. Either way, I’m too stunned to do much else than nod.
Logan pulls me into his chest as soon as Nico shuts the door behind him. “What did he want?”
“He said I shouldn’t be afraid of him and that they’ll always be there for you and…” My voice shakes again because Nico’s words hit the most neglected parts of me. “And me, too.”
Logan stamps a kiss on my head. “He means that, baby. They all feel like shit as if me doubting them is their fault.” He inches away, looking around the room. “Are you packed?”
“Two bags as promised.”
◆◆◆
“Open the door,” Logan says, his tone amused. He yanks the door handle to the bathroom for the nth time. “Don’t make me break the door down. He’s in his pen, I swear.”
“I can’t stay here with that thing!” I yell, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wrapped in a towel after Ghost entered the bathroom while I was in the shower. I screamed so loud half of the neighborhood must’ve heard. One octave higher, and the windows would’ve shattered for sure. My ribs are taking the beating now, hurting like nobody’s business. I’ve got painkillers in my bag, but I don’t want to take them even if they are pregnancy friendly. “Promise you’ll take me home when I open the door,” I whine, my pulse still on the quick side.
“This is your home. Open the door.”
I’ve been here for six hours, but he already calls it my home, not just his. “Is he locked away?”
“Yes! I think you gave him a fucking heart attack screaming,” he chuckles again. “Open, baby. Come on.”
I turn the lock and crack the door open, scanning the bedroom through the narrow slit. My eyes come across Logan’s face and his broad smile. “You need to take me home.”
He pries the door open, forcing me to step back. “I’ve got a better idea.” He tugs my hand, forcing me to step out of the bathroom, and sits me on the bed, a phone to his ear. “Do you still want Ghost?” he asks whoever’s on the other side of the line. “I’d appreciate it if you could come get him tonight. Cass will end up sleeping in the bathtub if you don’t.” He crouches before me, one hand on my thigh and climbing higher. “Yeah, that’ll work. Thanks.”
“What will work?” I ask when he cuts the call and tosses the phone aside. “Who’s taking Ghost? Is he going for good or just a sleepover?”
“He’ll be gone for good. I could risk having him here when it was just me, but now that you’re here…” he brushes his fingers over my tummy, “…and my baby’s here, it’s time to let him go.”
“You really are happy about this…” I mutter, fascinated by the sheer joy shining in his eyes as he touches my tiny bump.
“Never happier, princess,” he catches my lips with his and moves his hand lower, pushing it under the towel to stroke my pussy. “How sore are your ribs?”
“Pretty sore, but… oh,” I gasp when he circles my clit.
“Do you know that orgasms dull pain?”
I cock an eyebrow, fighting not to let my eyes roll back into my head at how good it feels to have his hands back on me. “I’m not sure how useful I can be.”
He slips one finger inside me, eyes on mine, his dark and aroused, pupils blown. “You don’t have to move a muscle. Feeling you come, seeing your face when you do…” he adds another finger. “…I need that.” He hooks his finger between my boobs, untying the towel with one move, and grazes his teeth over my pebbled nipple. “Lay down, baby.”
I arch back, bracing with both elbows before I move my hands to his head and force him higher until he hovers over me and dips his head for a kiss.
And for the first time, I don’t cap what I feel for him. I don’t hide it. I don’t try to suppress it. I let the love consume me whole, and I transfer it into the kiss so he can feel how much he means to me.
“I don’t ever want to be without you,” I whisper, tracing the contours of his face with my fingers. “I’ll always love you more than anyone ever could.”
He opens his mouth, but I don’t let him say a word, yanking him down for another kiss.
I don’t want to hear I love you, too.
I don’t want to hear I’m falling in love with you.
I want the three words in the simplest form.
I love you.
And for that, I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.
I weave my fingers through his hair and bask in how peaceful I am when he’s close. How wanted I feel in this moment.
Dreams do come true, sometimes. And happily ever afters don’t just happen once upon a time…
