Page 93 of Golden Days

“Selfish, volatile, angry,” he says, bringing my hand that’s resting on his chest to his lips. He brushes them against my knuckles, and I melt a little bit more inside.

“You’re nothing like him then. You’ve been nothing but kind and generous,” I say, bending down to place a kiss on his forehead.

He sighs and I linger, pressing my lips to his warm skin again and again.

“I wasn’t always like that. I think you bring out the best in me. I’ve made mistakes, Hazel,” he says, pinning me with his gaze. “I married a woman who was completely wrong for me, all because I had a warped perception of what love is supposed to be like. When she cheated on me, I lost it. It was my lowest low.” His bottom lip trembles slightly.

“Would you do it again? If you could go back?”

“Marry her or punch the guy?” He laughs, but it’s humorless. I give him a look of admonishment and he shakes his head. “Knowing what I do now, I wouldn’t do either. I’d stay as far away from her as possible.”

“Was the marriage that bad?” I ask, rubbing my thumb across the soft cotton of his T-shirt, over his heart.

He raises an eyebrow at me. Right. She cheated. They got divorced. But there had to be more to it, right?

I bite my lip, waiting for him to reply. With a deep inhale he says, “I thought it was fine at the time. She was the only real relationship I’d ever had. I had slept around a little in college but quickly figured out that wasn’t my style. But…she was detached.” He closes his eyes. “After a lot of therapy on my end, I realize now that it wasn’t love and affection she wanted from me. It was my name, my title, and my money.” He frowns.

I nod, holding him closer, my fingers tightening in his wavy dark hair. “That sounds lonely.”

“It was.”

When I look down at him again, I find him watching me. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” I say.

“I’m not. It brought me here, now. In your arms,” he says. His heart beats faster under my palm.

There’s something intense and hungry in his gaze and I—I don’t know how to handle it. So, I keep talking. “Why did you hate me in the beginning?”

The hunger in his eyes disappears, his hand wrapping around my wrist. “I didn’t.”

“Disliked me?” I ask, lips twitching. At his confused expression, I roll my eyes and say, “Come on, you kept calling me by my last name and sometimes even pretended like I didn’t exist. Why?”

He blows out a breath and opens his mouth. Then he closes it and tries again. “I liked you from the start, Hazel. I was trying to stay away.”

I look pointedly between us, his head in my lap, my hands tangled in his hair. “How’d that work out for you?”

“Sweetheart, you were inevitable,” he says, the hunger flaring in his eyes again.

I swallow hard, trying not to let the words go to my head too quickly, even though on the inside I’m kicking my feet and giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. The butterflies have emerged from their cocoons, and they’re all taking flight at the same time.

“You mentioned something the other day,” he says, sitting up. “You asked if I would still want you. After. Where did that come from?”

I lick my lips, averting my gaze. It was because I was self-conscious and kept comparing myself to his ex-wife in my head. Am I ready to admit that to him though?

One look at his patient face as he cups my cheek in his large palm, and I cave. “I was worried this might not be real. Or as real as I wanted it to be. You’re way out of my league.”

Levi brings his other palm to my cheek, tilting my head back so I can’t avoid his eyes. There’s a divot between his eyebrows and I blink back at his annoyance. “I told you I don’t do casual. This—you and me—it’s real, baby.”

He kisses me then, melting all my worries away with the press of his lips, the nip of his teeth, the soothing of his tongue. He takes his time, showing me how much he wants me bit by bit, touch by touch, until I’m a panting mess underneath him on the couch.

Sweetheart, you were inevitable. The words reverberate against my skin as I give him access to my neck, arching my back, pressing my chest to his.

“I found something of yours,” he pants, pressing open mouthed kisses to my collarbone.

“Hmm?” I ask, shifting underneath him until I can grind against his hard cock.

He takes a sharp inhale and lifts up on his forearms. “Hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty to move your stuff in my bedroom.” He doesn’t look even a little bit remorseful about it.

I grin stupidly up at him. He wants me to move into his bedroom.