Chapter 17

Fucking-A.

I roll off Lux and stand up, walking to the nearest bathroom to grab a couple of washcloths. I dampen them both, then clean myself quickly, before walking back out to the living room where Lux is still lying, panting like she's had the breath fucked right out of her.

Satisfaction spreads through me at the sight of her like that—well-pleasured, well fucked. I congratulate myself for a job well done.

Kneeling, I flip her onto her back, and spread her thighs, brushing the wet cloth over her, and cleaning her off. She just lies there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to pull air into her lungs.

When I'm done, I take the washcloth back to the bathroom, then come back and gather Lux into my arms. She doesn't fight me, thank God, and I carry her into the bedroom we were in earlier, placing her on the bed. She immediately burrows under the covers.

"Are you hungry?" I ask.

"No."

With a nod, I grab my clothes and then move to leave.

The comforter is pulled up over her head, but she pulls it down enough to peek out. "Where are you going?"

I shrug. "I just figured I'd—"

Fuck I don't know how to do this. In the most rookie move ever, and in the heat of the moment, I'd said those three forbidden words. I love you.

And I feel it. I feel it to my core. I love this girl. I'm just not sure I should have admitted it out loud. I can only pray she didn't hear me.

She opens the comforter, exposing the empty spot next to her. "You said you'd stay with me."

I eye her, and decide I owe her that, at least. Plus, I've fucked her twice now, so there's a chance I might be able to keep my hands off her. As long as we don't talk about the I love you, then we're golden.

Dropping my clothes, I walk over to the bed, and climb in naked, like she is. The second I get into the bed, though, I realize keeping my hands off her isn't going to happen. There's no way I can sleep next to her lush, naked body and not touch her. It's like asking the devil not to sin. It's impossible.

I should probably insist we both put clothes on, but let's be real, that's not going to help. Lux is my addiction, and clothes or no clothes, I'm going to find a way to get my cock inside her.

I'm so fucking depraved.

I settle against the pillows, and fold my hands over my chest, trying my damndest not to touch anything. I'm already rock hard, though, just knowing she's lying next to me, those pretty pink nipples brushing against the sheets.

Christ, I might need another ice-cold shower.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, her tone light, curious.

"How on earth I'm going to sleep beside you without fucking you again," I say honestly, closing my eyes so I don't have to look at her. I can still smell her, though. Honey and vanilla waft over me and like an idiot, I inhale.

I can feel the mattress move as she repositions herself. "So…are we going to just pretend you didn't just say what I think you said?"

Fuck.

Shoot me now.

"That would be great," I say with a sigh.

The last thing I want to do is examine my fucking emotions and leave myself vulnerable to her. Do I actually love her? I suspect I do, but does that change any of the fucked up shit I've done? I know it doesn't, and I also know that the chances of us walking out of Exeter House happy and blissful are less than zero.

She hates me, and I can't blame her.

I fucking hate me, too.

"We should talk about it," she says.

It's just like Lux to get straight to the issue. And I know she won't let up until she gets some kind of answer out of me. Damn. Why did I have to fall for such a stubborn, hard-headed chick?

Opening my eyes, I turn my head to look at her. She's up on one elbow, peering at me with those wide green eyes that are lit up with curiosity.

"What do you want to know?" I ask, already dreading her response.

"Why did you say it?"

Her tone is casual, nonthreatening, like we're talking about the fucking weather. But it's not a casual conversation. Or maybe it is for her. But for me, it's like ripping my chest open and allowing her to judge what she finds inside, which is nothing more than a blackened, charred chunk of muscle that should be a heart.

There's a long stretch of silence because truthfully, I don't know what to say. I've never been in this position before. Do I tell her the truth? Do I shrug it off and blame it on the heat of the moment?

"I know your instinct is to lie, but tell me the truth for once, Roman," she says, readjusting the pillow under her head like she's tucking in to hear my whole life story.

Fuck it. There's no us after this, anyway, so I might as well pour my soul out to her. I'm gutted either way. At least I'll know I told her the truth.

I turn my body toward her, tucking the pillow beneath my head, too, so we're face-to-face. "I said it…" I swallow past the bile rising in my throat. "...because it's true."

Admitting something so deeply intimate feels like an out-of-body experience. My heart is thudding heavily against the wall of my chest, and sweat beads on my temples. "I love you, Lux," I say, smiling. "...almost as much as I love myself, and that's saying something."

She shakes her head, but the movement is restricted by the pillow. "Don't do that."

I smile at her. "Do what?"

"Make a joke of it." She reaches out and places a hand on my face, stroking the stubble that's forming along my jaw. "You don't have to lie to me. I see you, Roman. All the darkest parts of you. And I wish…"

Oh, God.

"What do you wish?" I say, sucking in a breath, holding it.

She blinks at me, her round cheeks flushed pink. "...I wish things were different."

That hits me hard because it's confirmation that she can't look past what I did. Not that I blame her, but there was a small part of me that hoped she might be willing to do us once we escaped all the noise and chaos.

Worthless.

Lux is the first person—the only person—who I've ever really opened up to. My brother gets a version of me. My mom, my bros, old girlfriends…they all get different versions of Roman Rush. My violent side, my sexual side, whatever. Lux is the only person on this rotting planet who's gotten the real, unfiltered me.

And she's walking away.

"I don't think I can let you go," I whisper, emotion catching in my throat. My chest aches, and my heart slows to a dull thud. I'd give anything to keep her. Literally anything.

She studies my face, brushing the tip of her finger along my bottom lip. I'd kill to know what's going on in that beautiful mind.

"Everything happens the way it's supposed to," she says softly. "That's what my grandmother always tells me."

I take a strand of her hair between my fingers, stroking it, thinking of all the different ways I could steal her, and take her with me somewhere far away from all this. Just the two of us, soon to be three. She might be angry at first, but she'd come around eventually.

My gaze flicks up to meet hers. "I wish you could forgive me."

She pulls in a long breath. "If only it were that simple."

Those words cut through me like a knife, leaving a deep ache in my chest, because I know it's what I deserve. "So where do we go from here?" I ask.

She shrugs, dropping her hand. "When we leave here…we go our separate ways. We move on."

Move on. From her.

I sit with those words and let them sink in, but I know there's no moving on for me. I could fuck other girls, sure. But I know there's no one else on this planet that could ever compare to Lux. No one could even come close.

"And the baby?" I ask.

She flips onto her back, blinking, like I've reminded her of something she'd rather forget. "I don't know. I haven't made a decision about that yet."

If her earlier words cut me open, this guts me, carving me out until I'm hollow inside. Ultimately, it's her choice, but the idea that she might terminate our child hits me harder than anything.

I'm still stroking her hair, and I'm careful to keep my tone nonjudgmental. "Are you unsure because of how you feel about me?"

She pushes out a harsh breath, staring up at the ceiling. "Before my mom took off and joined that cult, she was a single parent, and I saw how hard it was on her. I don't want that for myself, or for…" Her words trail off like it's too painful to finish that thought…

"Regardless of what's happening between us, Lux, I'm ready to take full responsibility." My hand falls to her flat stomach. "This baby won't want for anything. And neither will you."

She turns her head to look at me, but I can't read her expression."You want me to keep it?" she asks, but the words catch a little toward the end.

I want to say yes, but I bite it back. This is one thing I know I can't control. "I don't want your fear of being alone driving your decision. You're not your mom, and I'm not your dad."

She purses her lips, and a tear rolls down her cheek. Reaching up, I brush the tear away gently. "Don't cry, Little Rabbit. It's going to be okay."

Her chin quivers as she lends forward, and melts against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and stroke her hair, murmuring words of comfort as she cries quietly. "It's going to be okay," I repeat softly.

And it is.

I'm going to make it okay if it's the last fucking thing I do.