9. Aggie

Chapter Nine

AGGIE

I smile a little as I slowly wipe away the green soap, a hint of pride filling my chest with each gentle pull.

This piece turned out beautifully, absolutely stunning, if I do say so myself.

One of my very few regular clients commissioned it a couple days ago, came into Inked in Sin just to book a slot with me and since I wasn’t here, Ash called with the specifics, and I got to work.

The client, Brit, wanted a tattoo in memory of her recently passed grandmother. She let me have free rein, only asked that I incorporate hyacinths and knitting needles into the piece, threw a few favorite colors and the style at me, and let me go to town on the design.

It didn’t take long to come up with something and when I emailed my concept to her—a hyper realistic bouquet of sorts, with the knitting needles and yarn hidden throughout the stems and leaves of three hyacinths—Brit called me crying because she thought it was perfect.

And now, seeing the finished product so beautifully painted on her skin, I’m inclined to agree.

“Take a look.” I smile, then roll toward the counter as she swings her legs over my tattoo chair. “Let me know what you think. If you feel like it’s lacking or?—”

“Aggie.” She sniffles, stands in front of the mirror and admires her arm, the piece stretching from shoulder to elbow in bright purple and white. “This is gorgeous, I just love it.”

Another jolt of pride hits my chest. “I’m so glad.” I grab the salve and pull on a fresh pair of gloves. “Do you mind if I add it to my portfolio?”

When I turn, Brit is wiping her eyes with a huge smile on her face. “Not at all. I’d love to have my gran’s tattoo in your portfolio.”

Me too .

This is the entire reason I started tattooing in the first place.

I always knew I wanted to do something with art, I just never knew what that something was.

At one point I thought about graphic design, teaching art history, even curating at an art museum, but my love for creating original work that moved people, that touched their lives, was too great to settle for simply being close to masterpieces or sharing my love for them.

When I moved to New Orleans, I started apprenticing at a shop while I worked the front desk and went to school for a degree in fine art. After I graduated, I started tattooing part time for a few years until I met Ash, funny enough, at one of Noah’s shows and we got talking about ink. He had just opened his shop and was looking for a third artist, so he asked if I’d be interested in filling the position. Since I was still part time at Morbid Ink with no end in sight, I jumped at the chance and started working for Ash two weeks later.

I mostly took walk-ins and the people who picked from our flash, but it was steady work, and I was able to really hone my ability. Eventually, I built my own clientele and was able to do custom pieces, stuff with substance and meaning, the stuff I really love, and that continued for a while. Up until Halee realized who I was connected to and started punishing me for it.

I’ve done all my brothers’ ink, most of Noah’s, and while I love that those men are walking billboards displaying my original work, Halee has managed to whittle my other clients down to a very select few. And that has definitely put a damper on how frequently I get to do custom pieces, but when I do, man, it really reminds me why I love tattooing and started doing it in the first place.

After a little more gushing over her tattoo and a lot of thanks, I photograph her piece and get it wrapped up, then send her on her way. She was my last client of the night and she tipped me generously, but knowing I don’t have any more tattoos scheduled for almost a week has me feeling a little melancholy.

“You closing up?” Jax asks from the doorway, his gigantic frame totally blocking it.

I nod and start putting away my gun. “We can split in about a half hour.” Tank gets to his feet, then trots over to where my unnecessary but not unwelcome bodyguard is waiting. “Do you mind taking him out? It’s been a while and Tank’s bladder isn’t much bigger than Thor’s.”

Jax chuckles. “No problem, Aggs. Wouldn’t want your best good boy whizzing in the Hummer. Vin would have a coronary.”

He would.

That ride is Vin’s baby.

For now, anyway. I know they’ve been talking more and more about starting a family, so both men’s priorities will be changing within the next year or two, I’d imagine.

With a sigh, I start sanitizing my room and my twenty minute clean up routine.

I’m hoping to catch Ash before he leaves so we can talk a little more about my schedule. One day a week isn’t cutting it and when we chatted earlier, I was under the impression my boss was uncomfortable at best, but he wouldn’t elaborate on why. Most likely because Jax was up my ass the entire time, or possibly because his evil sister really is pulling the strings. Either way, I need to make sure we talk because if I want to get out of Noah’s house, I need the income.

Problem is, I don’t really want out.

I know it’s only going to bite me in the ass again, but ever since I talked to my brothers, totally fell apart and told them everything going on, my desire to leave has lessened.

I’m still trying to keep distance between Noah and I but I can’t help but think maybe there was some truth to my extra sappy big brothers’ words. Not that I should even entertain the thought of forever with Noah and Clover, forever as more than just his BFF and her Gigi, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I love them both too much not to wish this was real.

It’s not, though, it’s just convenient.

Convenient to pretend to be engaged because we know each other so well, because we already have a level of comfort that’s only attained by a much deeper connection. I’m just worried that I really am starting to believe it, believe that Noah wants my forever, has always wanted it, and just didn’t know how to ask.

Which is a very dangerous line of thinking.

The longer I live with him, the harder I fall, and I’ve started to think maybe falling won’t be so bad this time, that maybe Noah will actually catch me when I do.

But it’s that little voice in the back of my head reminding me that he might not, that he hasn’t in years, the voice throwing all the times he hurt me back in my face. That’s what’s keeping a wall between us.

I can’t help that the rest of me has already started to knock it down brick by brick, but once it’s gone, there won’t be anything left protecting my heart, so I have to be ready to deal with the aftermath.

And that’s why I finish up in my tattoo room, grab my shit, and lock up before I head to Ash’s office. If I’m going to be stupid enough to think this thing with Noah is different and has the potential to be everything I’ve ever wanted, then I need to be smart enough to make sure I can get out when it all blows up in my face.

“Hey, do you have...” I knock as I open the office door, then immediately tense when I see the wrong redhead. “Oh... hey Halee.”

She doesn’t acknowledge me, just keeps scrolling through her phone, keeps her feet on Ash’s desk, keeps that bored expression on her face. Also known as permanent resting bitch face.

I clear my throat. “Is Ash still around? I wanted to talk to him...”

Halee’s shrewd eyes flick to mine briefly before she sighs loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

Okay then .

“I was hoping to catch him before he left for the night?—”

“You didn’t,” she snaps and drops her phone in her lap. “Ashlee left twenty minutes ago.”

Damn .

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll just give him a call?—”

“He started seeing someone, Agatha , so don’t bother. Ashlee doesn’t want your disease infested snatch anymore.”

I blink.

Did she really just say that?

I mean, I know she’s got a problem with me, but Halee usually takes a more passive aggressive route. Dirty looks. Mumbled jabs. Fucking with my schedule behind the scenes. Never anything like that, though.

“Excuse me?”

She smirks. “You heard me, Agatha . Ashlee has moved on, so you should to. Move on from my brother, and from this shop.”

“What?”

Halee rolls her eyes. “God, you really are stupid. I said?—”

I hold up a hand. “No, I heard your words, and not that I have to justify anything to you, but Ash and I haven’t been more than friends and co-workers in months. I know he’s seeing someone and I’m very happy for him.”

“Yeah, okay.” She snorts. “So happy for him that you came looking for an after-hours quickie.”

I shake my head. “I told you, I wanted to talk to Ash about my schedule. I tried earlier, but we didn’t have much time, so I thought now might work better.” With a hard swallow, I decide to drive the point home. “Besides, I’m in a relationship now, too. A serious one. Ash and I are just friends.”

“Oh right, the rockstar,” Halee sneers. “You really are stupid if you believe someone as hot as Noah Thorn would want anything to do with you. Especially when he can have his pick of any woman on the planet.”

I refuse to let her see me flinch.

While I know there is some truth to that, know that Noah could be with anyone in the world and threw me away once, I refuse to let this bitch think she’s getting to me, insecurities be damned.

“It’s true, whether you believe it or not.”

“I don’t,” she huffs. “Why would someone like Noah want to be with a stupid, talentless, ugly , big ass Amazon like you? You have zero personality, your tattoos are crap, and your best friend is a big dumb cow pretending to be a dog. Let’s not forget you dress like you’re going to a funeral every day and one would think all that black could help hide your fat ass and chubby body, but it miraculously doesn’t.” Halee grins. “You’re a money hungry little bitch trying to move in on everyone you can in order to get a free ride. You’re penniless, homeless, talentless, and you’re about to be jobless. Noah wouldn’t touch you with a fifty-foot pole.”

Wow .

Just fucking wow.

“You’ve been waiting a long time to say that to me, haven’t you?”

She nods, totally satisfied with herself.

“Well, I...” Hold on . “Wait, you said about to be jobless .”

“Sure did, Agatha.” Halee smiles like the devil herself. “Consider this little chat your pink slip, bitch. You’re fired.”

My eyes go wide seconds before they well with tears. “You can’t fire me. I haven’t done anything wrong and I?—”

She slams her hands on the desk as she lifts out of the chair and leans toward me. “I can do whatever the fuck I want and you. Are. Fired. You can clean out your shit tomorrow. If it’s not gone by Monday, I’m trashing it.”

“Halee, you can’t do this. Does Ash know? Did he okay this?”

“I am part owner, I don’t need to run every little thing by Ashlee. You’re fired and I’ll tell him when I’m good and ready. It’s not like you’re some huge asset or whatever.” She drops back into the chair, throws her feet on the desk and picks up her phone. “Now get the fuck out of my office. You can turn in your keys when you pick up your shit.”

I bury the urge to cry, easily since I’m also super pissed and will freak out over all this later, take a deep breath and narrow my eyes. “Go to hell, Halee.”

She blinks at me. “What did you just say?”

“I said go to hell.” My back straightens as I pull strength from somewhere, probably my fat ass . “Ever since I started working here, you’ve been a royal bitch to me, but I kept my mouth shut because of the respect I have for Ash. Since I’m no longer employed here and he’s just my friend, I have some shit I’d like to say to you.”

I keep my tone even despite the way I’m shaking. “You always talk about how I’m trying to take advantage of the people in my life who have success, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Everything I have, what little there is of it, has been acquired through busting my ass for years. I’ve never taken a dime from either of my brothers or Noah, I even tried to return my Jeep when Knox had it delivered to me. The relationships I have with them are worth more than anything money can buy, and that makes them priceless in my eyes. As for Ash, he’s been a good friend and a great boss and while I’ve enjoyed working with him for nearly a decade, I would never use any aspect of our relationship, fucking or otherwise, to take advantage of him or push you out.”

“You little?—”

“I’ve never used my job the way you do, never used what I do as a way to bed hop or get ahead somehow. I always show up to work, work hard as hell while I’m here and do anything Ash needs outside of tattooing, and I’ve done it because I appreciate the opportunity he gave me. I respect the hell out of him for making this business into something great while he constantly picks up your slack.”

I force a smile. “You’re a spoiled, self-entitled little brat who has no self-worth because you think the only way to make something of yourself is by stepping on other people or spreading your legs to do it. I feel sorry for you, Halee. I may be penniless, homeless, talentless and jobless , but I know who I am, I know my worth, and I know there are people in my life who love me unconditionally regardless of what I can or can’t do for them, my fiancé included.” One more deep breath. “I’ll come by before Monday to get my shit, but you can bet your ass I’ll be doing it when Ash is here because, at the very least, I want to make sure he knows what you did in his absence. Have a good night.”

I spin on my heel and march down the hall with my heart pounding in my ears.

Fucking bitch .

I can’t believe that even happened.

It’s like Halee has been waiting for it to be just the two of us before she pulled a stunt like that. No Ash, no Tripp. Jax is out back, not even my dog was here for that shitshow.

Vindictive bitch .

God, I’m so mad.

And I’m so totally fucked.

That thought booms through my head, echoes off my skull and makes my nose and throat burn. I can’t cry now, though, not when I have to ride home with Jax. He’ll know anyway and if I cry, he’ll freak out and tell Noah, which I absolutely do not want to happen.

If he tells Noah, my best friend will ride into that shop on his white horse, lay into Halee, then Ash, then he’ll demand I get my job back at full time before he threatens to sue them and buy the shop himself.

And while I appreciate that to a degree, Ash doesn’t deserve it.

I stop just in front of the back door and try like hell to fight the tears that are bound to spill.

I’m an emotional crier.

Not just when I’m sad, but I cry when I’m happy, mad, scared. You name it, I’ll cry because of it and wearing my emotions on my sleeve that way isn’t really a good thing, especially when I need to hide them from an incredibly perceptive bodyguard who also happens to be my friend and will totally narc to my best friend.

With a shaky breath, I hoist my backpack higher on my shoulders, pray for strength, then open the back door.

“You ready, Aggs?” Jax asks as he throws Tank’s tennis ball. “Your good boy peed twice and left a huge pile of shit next to Halee’s BMW. He’s good to go.”

A genuine smile pulls at my lips. “Tank is getting extra treats for that.” My pooch comes lumbering toward us, tail wagging, tongue flopped out around his ball between a toothy smile. “Yes, he will. Extra treats for shitting by that she-devil’s fancy car.”

The ride home is relatively silent. I’m tired, emotionally spent and battling a nervous breakdown to rival every single one I’ve ever had, and Jax knows it. He’s kind enough to not say anything though, just glances at me periodically while I lean my head on the window and watch the Main Quarter pass by.

I really love living here in New Orleans, but I can’t help but feel like it’s coming to an end. I’ll have nothing when I move out of Noah’s house, nothing but Tank and my Jeep, and that means Georgia is a very real possibility, especially if Ma and Knox move out that way.

I miss being close to my family, really miss seeing them all the time and since I haven’t exactly built shit out here, being with them again is more appealing than it’s ever been. Definitely helps that I now have a shit ton of nieces and nephews I desperately want relationships with, too.

Too bad I’m in love with my best friend and his daughter, stupidly hoping they’ll be the reason I stay. Leaving them seems like an impossibility at this point, and I’m ridiculous enough to believe I won’t need to. I’ve embraced it even, accepted the way my heart will be destroyed when they no longer need me and instead of getting out now while I’m still slightly intact, I’m ready to dive headfirst into whatever this is between us, heartbreak be damned.

“Thanks for playing chauffeur today.” I smile at Jax as I hop out of the Hummer. “I’ll let you know if I need you tomorrow.”

He nods and gives me a handsome smile. “Anytime, Aggs. You’re our family too, you know. Vin and I would do anything for you.”

Damn emotional rollercoaster.

I swallow hard and try even harder not to cry. “Thanks.”

Jax watches as I walk into Noah’s house, makes sure I lock up and turn out the lights before he takes off toward his house about a mile away.

I don’t bother turning on any lights, just kick my boots off in the foyer, drop my bag and head toward the stairs to my room, but I stop when I notice the basement door ajar and a sliver of light is shining in the hall.

Huh .

It’s after one.

Clover is definitely in bed but I figured Noah would be too, he doesn’t last very long after years of putting his baby to sleep by 8:30.

I guess he could be in his studio.

Noah has a small personal studio in part of the basement, just off what he considers the family room. It’s a soundproof room where he writes and plays when he needs a break.

Maybe he took advantage of a quiet house and went down to work on something new? He did mention something about discussing a change with Mr. Whitehead at his meeting today. It wouldn’t shock me if Noah got started on it as soon as punky went down.

My curiosity wins as I creep toward the stairs, nudge open the door and wait.

Noah never minds when I come down to listen to him play. He always welcomes it actually and usually cons me into singing with him. We haven’t done that in a long time though because I’ve been so distant, but maybe it’s exactly what we need right now, the little push I need to finish letting my walls down in order to risk everything one last time.

Oh, but when I get to the bottom of the stairs, my heart melts into a gigantic puddle and a million different emotions slam into my chest.

The lights are low, but I can still see everything, everything that makes me love this man more than I already do.

The sectional is piled with fuzzy blankets and plush pillows, dozens of each arranged to create the nest Noah and I have made for years, the one we always insisted on sitting bundled up in while we read or talked or whatever our hearts desired at the time.

On the coffee table next to Clover’s video monitor—which is strangely off—is a fucking feast. A feast from Willie Mae’s.

So many takeout containers, the insulated kind that keeps the food warm for long periods of time, and I can tell Noah ordered the entire menu judging by the spread. There are two six packs—one orange soda, one cream soda—which means there’s probably vanilla bean ice cream in the freezer so we can make orange cream sickle floats later.

And on the huge seventy-five inch TV is the menu for The Dream Team, one of our favorite movies all cued up and ready to go, but what has me seconds from bursting into tears is what I see sitting in the recliner a few feet in front of me.

Noah is asleep in the chair, elbow propped on the arm, head resting on his hand. His light strawberry blonde waves are down and damp from a recent shower that has him smelling like sinfully sweet memories. And lord help me, Noah isn’t wearing anything except a pair of grey sweatpants, the male equivalent of the sexiest lingerie, his very pretty man feet kicked up on the end of the sectional, toes still pink from when he let Clover paint them last.

He’s quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, his incredibly handsome face peaceful and covered in just a tiny hint of scruff.

Chest rising and falling in even and relaxed breaths, that damn sexy smattering of hair over his pecs and stomach disappearing into the waistband of those sweats. Every inch of his porcelain skin colored with ink, arms, chest, neck, ribs, even the tops of his feet.

Noah is a work of art for so many reasons but seeing my artwork on his flesh sends an unexpected rush of emotion though me, especially when you consider the fact that he obviously set the scene for a night with his best friend, one he tried to stay awake for despite starting his day with the sun.

Fuck, I love him so much.

“You did all this for me?” I whisper as I come to stand in front of him, my eyes scanning the couch and table again. “You even got Willie’s.”

Noah stirs a little and yawns. “Mmhey, kitten. I didn’t hear you come down.”

“You got me Willie’s?”

“I did, but I overshot in hopes that I’d get to pick at your leftovers.” He gives me a sleepy smile as he scratches his bare chest. “You still can’t eat everything on the menu, right?”

One single tear rolls down my cheek and I don’t even bother hiding it.

I can’t believe he did this for me. Comfort food, comfort movies, comfort everything that includes so many of our favorites from almost thirty years of being vital to the other’s existence.

No one knows me the way Noah does, no one gets me like he does, and no one has ever done something so simple yet so meaningful for me in a really, really long time.

“Kitten?” There’s worry in his voice, and far less sleep as he sits up and puts his feet on the floor. “Aggs, what is it?”

“You got me Willie’s.” I sniffle.

“Aggie, what’s?—”

I don’t let him finish.

No, I throw caution to the wind, ignore my better judgment and do something I’ve wanted to do since I left Jupiter all those years ago.

I step between Noah’s thighs, take his so gorgeous face in my hands and press my lips to his for the first time since we were kids.

My heart is beating so fast, my hands are practically shaking and just that simple caress has me wanting more. More of his lips, his skin against mine, his hands buried in my hair the way he used to when he’d kiss me. I just want more of him.

More he obviously can’t give me, because Noah isn’t kissing me back.

Oh my god .

How could I be so stupid?

This was a mistake, a huge mistake, and now I have to leave right this second.

I break the one-sided kiss, avoid looking at his most likely disgusted expression, and start backing away. “I’m sorry. I just, I just had a really shitty day, and this was all so sweet. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I’m just going to go?—”

Quicker than I can register, Noah is gripping the front of my t-shirt and yanking me forward, my body trapped between his thighs as his free hand slides up the side of my neck until his fingers are in my hair.

Noah doesn’t speak, just keeps me close with his hand gripping my shirt, those pale blue eyes locked with my leaking ones and slowly, so slowly, he pulls my face down to his.

Then he’s kissing me.

Noah is kissing me.

A soft, tentative kiss, one that asks for permission, asks if this is okay and so much more.

He pulls me closer, his lips caressing mine in the gentlest of kisses.

He tastes exactly like I remember, minty and sweet, his full mouth as soft and warm just like it was all those years ago.

This kiss is so much like our first one, the one we shared when we were seventeen and reckless, but it’s somehow different, too. This kiss is beautiful and hesitant, sweet and a little shy, but not awkward. No, there is nothing awkward about kissing thirty-four-year-old Noah, it just feels right.

“Aggie...” he sighs against my lips as he presses his forehead to mine. “Kitten, fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I take a shaky breath, squeeze my eyes shut in order to hide the tears, and nod. “Me too.”

“I’m going to kiss you again, kitten, so if you don’t want me to, now is the time to tell me.”

Instead of answering him with words, I just press my lips to his and kiss him a little harder.

And that was all he needed, apparently.

Noah tugs me toward him one final time, guides my body down to his, then adjusts us in the chair so I’m straddling his lap, our chests flush against each other. He lets go of my shirt and both hands travel up my thighs until they’re cupping my ass, squeezing and keeping me close.

I whimper into our next kiss as Noah slants his mouth and deepens it, kissing me hard enough for me to grab his shoulders just to stay grounded.

But I feel like I’m flying.

I feel like my entire body is light and free, the only thing keeping me from floating away from Noah’s lips and his kiss.

“Agatha...” he groans as my hands slide up his neck, gripping it firmly and stroking his jaw with my thumbs. “Kitten...”

I tilt his head back just a little and when my tongue runs the seam of his perfect lips, Noah growls deep and low just before he gives me what I want.

Tongues and teeth, languid strokes and playful nips. I kiss Noah hard, kiss him like I love him, kiss him the way I’ve only ever kissed him . My arms go around his neck, my fingers tangling in his strawberry blond locks as I try to get closer, try to hold onto this moment and ignore every single reason I shouldn’t, and when Noah digs his fingers into my ass hard and presses my hips to his, I’m a goner.

“Noah,” I gasp when I feel how hard he is, his steel length hot and heavy against the seam of my jeans. “Noah, we, this?—”

“I know, kitten,” he groans as he rocks my hips. “I know, but it is, and I want it to.” Noah sucks on my lower lip, eliciting a moan from the back of my throat. “This is happening because I want it to, because you want it to, and we can’t keep fighting our connection. I’m tired of fighting it, kitten. I want you too much to keep depriving us of everything we should be to each other.”

Tears spring to my eyes as hope blooms in my chest. What he said could be taken any number of ways, but I’m foolish enough to think he’s referring to more than just kisses and sex. I want to believe Noah means he wants all of me, wants us to be what we were, what we always should have been, and that’s enough for me right now.

I’ll analyze his words later when I’m a hot mess worrying about having a one-night stand with my best friend I’m playing house with while falling so deep in love with him I’ll never get out.

So instead of stopping this like I should, I tug his hair by the roots, kiss him as deep as I can and grind into his lap without the least bit of concern, completely ready to ignore every doubt and make Noah mine again, even if it’s just for one night.

Right up until we hear footsteps overhead, heavy ones lumbering through the foyer, followed by Vin’s voice calling for us.

Noah breaks the kiss and sighs as he rubs his nose against mine. “Clover is having a sleepover.”

I nod like I understand what he’s saying and am not still hazy with lust.

Something Noah knows because he grins and gives me another small kiss. “If Vin is upstairs looking for us, it’s because of her.”

“Oh.” Now I get it. “We should go up then.”

“I’m sorry, kitten.” He gives me a slightly disappointed smile as I awkwardly get off his lap. “I wanted this to be about us, so I arranged for Clover to stay with her uncles, but?—”

“She’s our priority, Noah.” I smile because I mean that. “Everything else can wait until we know she’s good.”

He gets to his feet, boner and all, then takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilts my head and presses another sinful kiss to my lips. “I didn’t plan on kissing you tonight, Aggs, but now that I have, you can expect I’ll be doing it as frequently as possible. And this”—Noah nods down toward the enormous tent in his sweats—“can wait, but it’s going to happen again, too. You’re mine, Aggie, and I’m not letting you go this time.”

I just nod because that was pretty clear, but again, it could be taken at face value, taken as a promise for sex and nothing more. And once again, I’m stupid enough to believe otherwise.

When we get upstairs, me leading the way to give Noah time to get his hard-on under control, my heart breaks at what I see.

Vin is in his pajamas, Clover in his arms with a look of concern on his face as he cradles our girl. She’s pale, paler than usual because she has Noah’s complexion, and she seems pretty lethargic.

“What’s wrong?” Noah asks, a little panic in his tone as he reaches for his baby. “What happened?”

Vin hands her over. “She has a fever. I gave her Motrin and it came down a bit, but she’s saying she feels pukey and wanted you.”

No sooner than the words are out of his mouth does Clover projectile vomit all over Noah’s bare chest. She starts to cry just as the door opens again, Jax walking in wearing his pj’s and a look of worry, my dog right by his side.

“Shhh,” Noah soothes. “It’s okay, peanut.”

“My tummy hurts.”

“I know baby, but it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

I look at our friends and give them a smile. “You two lock up and you can take my room.”

I know damn well they aren’t going to leave Clover like this, not until they know she’s okay and quite frankly, I’ll be sleeping on the floor next to her bed if I have to because I feel the same. “I’ll go draw her a bath.”

We all head upstairs, Tank included, and head in separate directions.

Clover throws up again while I start filling the tub in her bathroom, cries even harder because she hates being sick and when I bring a towel out to try to help Noah clean himself up, my chest goes tight.

He’s standing in the middle of her bedroom covered in puke, swaying back and forth while he quietly sings to her. Clover is playing with his hair, her tears subsiding and regardless of the mess, this is exactly what I want my life to be. I want both of them, love them so damn much that I need them to be mine and it might just kill me if it doesn’t happen.

“Here.” I hold out the towel and keep my arms outstretched. “Let me get her started so you can clean yourself up.”

Noah’s eyes find mine. “You don’t have to, Aggs. I can get her situated and shower after.”

I shake my head. “It’s fine, Thor. A little throw up is the least of my concerns. I’ll get her in the tub while you take a few minutes for yourself, then we’ll go from there.”

The smile Noah gives me as he hands over our girl is so beautiful, so loaded, I’m not sure what to make of it. But I take my punky from him anyway, then head to the bathroom.

“You feel like you need to throw up again, baby?” I ask as I set her on the counter and carefully peel off her nightgown.

Clover shakes her head, then proceeds to throw up all over me and burst into tears.

“Hey, it’s okay, punky.” I press a kiss to her forehead, feeling that she’s still a touch feverish. “We’ll get you in the tub and clean this all up. Daddy will be back in a few minutes.”

“Gigi,” she sobs. “I’m sorrys I got sick on you.”

I smile and push her hair back out of her face. “It’s totally fine, baby. Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time you’ve yakked on me and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“Will yous stay with me, please? I’m so sleepy.”

“Of course, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Clover yawns big, rubs her eyes, and lets me finish undressing her like a rag doll. And because I’m also covered in puke, I lose my t-shirt and jeans, toe off my socks, and pick her up before lowering us both into the tub in our underwear.

“I loves you, my Gigi.” Clover sighs as I wash her up. “I’m so glads you live with me and Daddy.”

I press a kiss to the back of her head and get my front cleaned up before wrapping her in my arms. “Me too, baby. I love you so much and I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

“And Daddy.” She sighs on a yawn. “He’s glad you lives with us because he loves you toos.”

I don’t acknowledge her words, just sink down into the tub so the lukewarm water can help her relax, and help break her fever while I sing softly to my punk.

Even if I’m not their forever, Noah and Clover are mine. They always have been and always will be, and I pray this little girl knows it, so one day she can forgive me for what I’m going to have to do when her dad doesn’t want my forever any more than he did when we were kids.