Chapter 37

Poppy

I roll over and dig my toes into the sheet. A deep inhale snaps my eyes open. Another inhale fills me with skepticism. "Is that pumpkin I smell?" I voice, hoping it becomes true. Is it possible to smell pumpkin spice in your dreams? Does that make me clinically insane?

I roll again, almost falling out of the strange bed. The wine we had last night tasted like grape juice mixed with rubbing alcohol. Ok, so I'm not entirely sure that the last statement is one hundred percent true, but I feel confident. Note to self: don't ever drink wine that is in a soda can again.

Box wine? Well, that makes sense in some circumstances, like desperation. Trust me, the French would agree. Canned wine? No. Never.

Standing and stretching, I swallow a mouthful of desperation because I need coffee—good coffee.

After yesterday, Harper and I ordered pizza and cheap wine. I went to bed early, and Harper, well, I ' m not sure what she did. I left her sitting on the couch. She seemed reluctant to go to bed when all I wanted to do, after fleeing, driving through scary roads, and reaching the end of our impromptu road trip, was get into a clean bed and sleep.

I grab the knob on the door; it takes an extra wiggle to open it because the screw is loose. The air in the hallway makes me feel like glue is seeping into my cracks. Freshly brewed coffee has a way of making you feel whole again.

"Harper," I shout. Another inhale. Yes! Fresh coffee. "I love you." I squeal. I begin to walk down the hall quickly. It's not just any coffee, either. I know that scent, slightly like autumn, cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and pumpkin.

I grin. Harper knew what I ' d need. That reminds me, how the heck am I going to thank her for everything she has done? Even the small touches like the coffee?

If I Google 'gift ideas for a world-class hacker,' what will come up?

I turn left directly into the kitchen, looking directly into the eyes of someone I love. My feet stumble, and I grasp the doorframe as I sway. "Julian," I gasp. "What…" My eyes blink faster than windshield wipers on a rainy day. I think my heart even makes that distinct squeeze, similar to when they run over the glass too quickly.

" Hi," he says, his smile hesitant and worried-like. He doesn ' t look away; he just reaches for the coffee pot, puffing out steam like a little train. "I brought a peace offering," he tells me, lifting the pot.

He glances toward the little nook by the window, where a small bistro table for two sits. " Pumpkin spice coffee and pumpkin muffins with fresh cream cheese," he adds, his voice dropping a bit softer now.

"Am I dreaming?"

The corner of his lip turns up.

" You came," I whisper, realizing that this was what I want. I ran because I was scared, and yes, Julian wasn't honest with me. I also ran because I wanted to be chased, to be saved. We've been taught that we have to be our own saviors, do everything, be the strong female who can be her own superhero, cook and clean, work and have fun, have a family, and fix every problem that comes our way. Don't get me wrong, we can, but at what cost? I've been paying the price, and I'm bankrupt. I ' ve fought so hard in the past. I tried to make my brother, Henry, love me again and failed. I tried to outrun Andrew and failed. Society would tell me the silver lining is surviving. Fuck surviving as the sole hero.

I want someone to save me this time.

I had it. Julian wanted to save me, and I almost lost it; I ran from the hero.

I wanted Julian to come here, explain everything, and save me. Maybe that makes me weak, a damsel in distress, but you know what? If being weak means finding refuge in his arms, embraced and understood rather than swallowed by loneliness and emptiness, then I ' ll wear that label with no shame.

"Did you run because you wanted me to chase you?" he asks with a playful note. "Because I'll chase you, Pumpkin, till the ends of the earth, to the edges of the universe. Just say the words, lift that foot, and start running because I'll fight for your forgiveness till my dying days."

I shake my head; the movement is barely perceptible, my voice a fragile thread of sound. "I don ' t know anymore. I ran, hoping... hoping somehow my feet would instinctively find their way back to you," I reply, my voice wobbling like a novice on six inch Louboutin high heels, matched only by the uncontrollable quiver of my lip.

He lets out a breath, transforming it into a smile that brightens his face. His smile reaches from one ear to the other, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Well, that just sounds silly, Pumpkin," he teases, the warmth in his voice wrapping around me like a blanket. Promise me you won ' t run again."

I pause, a lump forming in my throat as I muster a swallow, the action feeling monumental. "I promise never to do cardio again," I joke. Then, as if guided by some unseen force, my feet start moving. Julian barely has time to put down the hot pot of coffee before I crash into him. His arms, those strong arms I never should have fled from, envelop me with such tenderness. It ' s like wind cradling a falling feather, ensuring it gently, slowly, is brought back down to earth. That ' s what I ' ve been since I ran from him, afloat and lost in the wind.

" I ' m sorry I ran," I cry, burying my nose in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

" Shh," he purrs as he lifts and cradles me. " I ' m the one who is sorry, Pumpkin. I didn't mean to lie. I just...I was trapped in it, and the only way I saw out would have cost me you. I don't want to lose you, Poppy. I can't. Please let me explain."

I pull back, searching his grey eyes. We have to talk, and I know that in just a few minutes, everything about our relationship will change for the better or worse. I know I can ' t run, can ' t start a new chapter until I finish the last. I just want a few more moments of him before we have that much-needed conversation.

" Kiss me," I tell him.

" We should talk first," he replies, his lips pressing into a soft yet firm line.

I shake my head, " Make love to me first. I just need you one more time," I confess as I squeeze my legs around his waist.

One more time to remember him as my knight in shining armor and not possibly as a deceiver.

I ' m a shrink's wet dream. I know this. I don ' t care.

I ' ll care tomorrow if he breaks my heart.

His grey eyes light up like strikes of lightning. " What if one more time isn ' t enough for me, Poppy?" He cradles my hips against his core with an unmistakable need. "What if I need a lifetime?"

A lifetime together sounds like a fairytale. Those aren ' t real. Why do we teach kids that they are? Happy endings don ' t merely happen; they take a lot of hard work and effort.

Is that what Julian ' s doing? Trying to fight for our happy ending?

I raise my hand and run it down the side of his face, over his high cheekbone, down his square jaw that is slightly prickly. He hasn ' t shaved yet. " Are you seriously turning down sex to talk?" I muse.

His laugh is like a ray of sunshine over the thunderclouds invading my mind. " I ' m trying to do the right thing," Julian replies as he rests his forehead against mine. For a moment, he closes his eyes and inhales as if he is cherishing me.

His words resonate with me, right versus wrong. Julian has always tried to do the right thing. First, when he wanted to keep me a secret to protect me, and now I can see the sleepless pain my absence has caused him. Julian tried to stay away but failed. He tried to do what I asked of him, but maybe what I wanted wasn ' t right. Maybe I needed him after all. Sometimes, the thing we crave the most is what kills us. Like too much candy, it tastes good, but it's a poison that will slowly rot you. It's what we need, not what we want, that will save us in the end.

I wanted a new chapter, but I needed Julian to help me end the last one first.

I cup his jaw, loving how warm his skin feels in my palm. " I know," I reply. " I know you ' re trying to be the good guy. You always have been. I see that now." I lean in and kiss him, " Sex first, conversation, and pumpkin spice after." I raise a brow, waiting for his reply.

The way his lips claim mine, possess them entirely, well, that ' s enough of a reply for me. I wrap my arms around his strong neck and push my hips further into his muscular body. I feel his fingers dig into my flesh, holding me, helping to mold me into a stronger version of myself, a woman who isn ' t afraid because he's by my side, whether as a pillar of strength or a shadow of support.

He starts to move, his kiss becoming more wild and untamed, then pauses. " Bedroom?" he grunts as his fingers try to inch under my panties.

" Last door on the right," I reply as I bite his lip, trying to savor the taste of him. My fingers reach for the buttons of his shirt, but I can ' t find them. He ' s wearing a t-shirt, which means I have to break the kiss to get it off. I peel the shirt up, revealing his muscled chest to my eyes.

" Harper?" I question. Where the heck is she? Did she plan this?

" Went for a bike ride," his lips press against my neck, tasting and sucking, causing my thighs to clench as a surge of wetness coats my core. There is an ache within me that momently stops my heart. I need him.

Without his shirt, I feel more of his body heat as it begins to seep into the thin fabric of my sleeping shirt and my flesh. That slight change in body temperature relieves all my tension and stress.

We clumsily make our way down the hallway, bumping into walls, hearing the wood creak as if a voyeur to our passion.Hot, wet lips trail up and down the curve of my neck, and then he sucks on my skin. Hard. So hard that I—I—Oh. My. God. I come.

Is that possible? I know in fairytales, a kiss from a prince can save you, but in the adult version, can a single possessive kiss from a prince make you see stars?

"Julian!" My fingers dig into his flesh, warm and hard under my nails as I cling to him. The sounds of our rapid breaths fill the small hallway, punctuated by the creak of the door hinges as he kicks open the door to the small bedroom. The ambiance of the room, dimly lit by the soft glow of the morning sun, wraps around us in a cocoon of intimacy.

" I don ' t know what ' s happening," I mutter breathlessly as he tosses me onto the small twin-sized bed. I bounce, the springs echoing softly in the quiet space, and brace my hands on the mattress to steady myself. "I don ' t know if this is a dream, but if it is, I don ' t want to wake up."

" It ' s not a dream," Julian replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the air. His strong hands grasp his belt, and with two swift movements, it whips out of the loops. The sound of the belt slicing through the air sounds like God himself just inhaled.

Julian's pants slide off with the ease of unwrapping the finest chocolate bar you're ever going to savor. Move over, Lindt Chocolate, Julian Sterling is going to be the hottest, best-selling flavor.

With a swift hook of his thumbs under his boxers, I'm greeted by the sight of his impressive cock. Oh, sweet Jesus —it feels wholly inappropriate to invoke the Lord's name at the sight of such an imposing figure, but that's all my overwhelmed mind can muster.

" Good morning," I mutter, my eyes seamlessly glued to his anatomy.

Confession time, pumpkin spice in the morning is amazing but Julian's hard cock? Well, that's in a league of its own. It would make a nun sin, the devil sprout white wings, a liar confess, and a woman so heartbroken weep tears of trust. In other words, it does the impossible.

He begins to stroke himself, proving science wrong. Can it get bigger? Yeah, it can. It just did.

Fuck science, I'm a believer.

" I wanted to be gentle," Julian starts, the desire clear in his eyes. " But I don ' t think I can, Poppy. I need you."

I nod, my eyes stuck like a fly on a windshield to the small droplet of precum now on the tip of his swelling cock.

" Words, Pumpkin. Give them to me," he commands a soft edge of desperation in his voice.

" I ' d give you anything," I whisper. " Punish me. Heal me. Make me trust you entirely. Just make love to me."

His eyes darken to a shade of grey I've never seen glistening in his irises before.

I blink. He's on top of me.

I inhale. He's inside of me in one powerful thrust.

My back arches, creating a perfect curve that would make a ballet teacher proud of my form.

He didn't even bother removing my panties; he just pushed them aside, not wasting any time.

We're raw, passionate, feral—skin slapping, mouths trying to savor each other's breath, fingers grasping, hearts beating so hard there's a high probability we might pass out.

Who needs a workout when you can fuck a man like Julian Sterling.

" Julian," I gasp, cry, shout his name like I ' m praising a new deity. By the way, Lord, please forgive me; big cocks make me praise naughty things.

Words? They don ' t exist in this feral moment. We ' re both chasing our highs, hoping we don ' t overdose along the way.

We come together like a perfect symphony of lust clashing.

I see stars and grey eyes looking down at me.

A chance at a new world.

Julian Sterling.

His large frame collapses onto mine; he rolls us to the side, and then, " Oof!" I yelp.

" Shit," he grunts as he cradles me to his chest, his back hitting the hard floor as we tumble off the small twin bed.

I giggle, the sound light and free in the aftermath of our storm, like a rainbow painting the sky—a sign of hope. No matter the storm, I can laugh again. I will be with Julian.

" Fucking bed," he grunts. His hands rub up and down my back in gentle reassurance. " You okay, Pumpkin?"

" No. I was just impaled by your huge cock, but instead of going to hell, I saw heaven. Color me surprised." I reply, turning my head to rest my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, which picks up pace as he laughs.

" I missed you," he breathes. " Missed you so much. Too much. Please don ' t leave me again. Let me fix us, Pumpkin. Please, just let me try."

I press my lips onto his chest, kissing directly above his heart. " Okay."

We lie like that until I feel a cold trickle of air rattle out of the old air conditioner, brushing over our slightly sweat-coated skin. " We should move," I suggest, pushing up to look down at his hard body. " While the coffee is still warm," I smile slowly.

Julian nods, his hands finding my hips as he holds them for a moment. I see the fear in his eyes, and I hate it. " Let ' s talk."