29. Into the Wild

29

INTO THE WILD

SOPHIA

Fifteen minutes after my call with my sister, I'm peeling off my panties, then turning the shower nozzle to its hottest temperature. I refuse to wash away the memory of Mazen's face when he learned that he'd fathered Roman, our child, our son. What I do need is to wash away for the second time today, is the scent of him. It lingers on my skin, a consequence of his tight embrace as he held me throughout the night.

Protected isn't a way I'm used to feeling.

The seed of information Caddell planted that Mazen could be Roman's father was shocking. Though it felt almost too cultivated to be a real possibility. Improbability sat on one shoulder; a nagging feeling in the deep recesses of my heart sat on the other. I should have confessed it was a possibility when I told Mazen I remembered him that night at the hospital. I should have had the guts, the courage to face uncertainty head-on. Instead, I cowered. I chose to protect my heart at the expense of breaking his .

Mazen Wilde is my son's father. It's no longer a possibility, but a fact.

A small waft of cool air alerts me that the bathroom door has been opened. Through the fogged shower glass, I watch intently as Mazen slowly undresses then pads over to the shower. With nothing separating us, including the secret I held on to in fear of Mazen loathing me, we're free. We met over ten years ago. We got lost in one other, and then we lost one another. I birthed and buried our son, and then by kismet, I was reacquainted with the man who'd aided in Roman's creation.

Stepping inside the shower, Mazen shrugs. "Saves water."

His company is enough to numb my roaming thoughts. All I can focus on is him. From his exposed, naked body to the fire burning in the steel of his gray eyes. They smolder as they freely roam across my own flesh, dipping slightly to the suds of soap covering my toes. The path his smoky eyes travel is as warm as a hand. I squeeze my own eyes shut, an attempt to shut out my desire for him. Now that I've tasted him, ridden him, been cherished by him, I feel like I'm spiraling.

Fortifying the wall between my heart and mind, I use the foamy loofah in my hand to scrub away the memory of how Mazen makes me feel. Redirecting my wayward thoughts, I say, "Musician and environmentalist."

"And father. Don't forget that title."

My spine goes rigid.

"It's the one I'm most proud of."

The water feels like needles as it slides down my flesh. His words slice into me just as hard.

"Mazen," I say painfully. Is he baiting me? Why would he choose this moment of almost intimacy to bring this up ?

"I'm jealous of that loofah." He inches closer, barreling through the boundary I'm trying so desperately to place. "Can I?"

My brow quirks. "We should probably keep our distance. I can see that you're hurting. I've caused you enough pain. Tossing meaningless sex into the mix will only make matters worse."

There's an innocence in the feathery laugh that slides past his parted lips. "I'm just offering to wash your back, not bend you over and use my tongue to soak up the wetness between your thighs."

I turn to offer him my back. Satisfaction bellows from his mouth in a soft moan approving my compliance. It courses through my veins. I bottle up his mumbled praise, savoring it in case the truth we've both been doused with is too much to bear and this is the last moment of civility between us.

Probing eyes and wandering hands interrupt my musings, second to his deep voice. "There's nothing meaningless about fucking you. Though I won't be able to do that anymore."

A bruise to my heart the size of the moon forms. Weariness weighs down my shoulder blades. The tepid water raining down over us washes away the lone tear that has already formed and fallen down my cheek.

"From now on, I'm only able to make love to you. You're worth too much. You mean too much to me to simply fuck."

My thighs clench instinctively.

"I'll make it as hard and rough as you need me to, Sophia. I know your needs. Don't get it twisted again by degrading our making love to simple fucking." A soft moan, a reward for his declaration, passes through my parted mouth .

"Let me show you how it's going to feel from this day forward, and don't ever"—he pushes his large palm over my lower stomach,"say anything between us is meaningless again. You might as well tattoo your name on my dick, Rosella. It's yours now."

Arousal and water slide down my leg. I don't know which flows more.

I'm startled once again by the words that pour from his mouth. So much so that I don't realize I've been staring at him, mouth agape, for a solid minute, until he breaks the silence.

"Pass me that shampoo so I can wash your hair. We need to leave in the next thirty minutes, baby."

It's the baby that has me dropping to my knees in front of him.

Spoiler: we don't leave the hotel in thirty minutes. It's two hours later when Ashton is escorting us with a pissed-off Preston as his shadow to the blacked-out SUV parked behind the hotel.

I mouth, I'm sorry , to him as I climb into the back seat.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask, my face pulled into a sober frown.

"I need to," Mazen's reply is clipped, his face pale and exhausted.

Settling into the bench seat next to him, I reach over and take his hand in my own. "We'll do it together then. It'll be the first time Roman sees his mom and dad together."

"It won't be the last time. I'll have to fly back often. I don't want him to ever think his dad turned his back on him."

Guilt at not visiting our son's grave clamors in my chest. It was too much. The pain of leaving the hospital with empty arms. The ache in my missing womb. The knowledge of knowing I'd never be pregnant again. It was all easier to lock up tight and force my thoughts not to linger in the past.

"Is that what you think I did?" My lips tremble.

Twisting his position, Mazen reaches for my face. Gathering my cheeks in his palms, he says, "I would never think that. Your reasoning for not visiting is yours and yours alone. I can't imagine what you went through, and I'd never ask you to relive the darkest moment of your life again just because I need to do this. Is it stupid of me to want to see his grave? It's not like he's there. Not his soul anyway."

I heave a deep breath, and my heart shudders for the man in front of me. The one I forgot. The very man who spent years searching every tattoo studio across the globe for the woman he'd bedded once. The one who refused to forget my memory and hung on to it with every fiber of his being. That's the man I've fallen for. One of them at least.

As hard as it will be to visit Roman's grave, I'll do it for Mazen. I can't deny the fluttering in my chest or the pulsing knot that seems to unwind around my heart when he's near.

Taking a perilous leap, I cover his hands on my jaw with my own. "He's wherever we are because we made him. You and me. We created a life together. Only his body is there though. His memory is alive up here." I tap my forehead. "I wish you could see him from my eyes, but I'll visit his grave with you every day for the rest of our lives if that's what you need, Mazen. I'm not alone anymore. I don't have to be. Over the last several days, you've proven that to me. Somehow, you—" I correct my thoughts, not wanting to break our moment, but to include the other men who hold a place in my heart too. "The three of you have thawed a part of me that long succumbed to numbness."

Silence lingers between us as the vehicle travels closer to our destination. His eyes never leave mine. His hands continue to hold on to my face, as if he's talking to my soul without moving his mouth.

"I'm falling in love with you, Sophia Rose Lozier."

The wall I sought to erect between us crumbles. I choke back a cry, holding my metaphorical dustpan, using it to sweep every speckle of that wall into the garbage. I melt at his declaration. Not because of the lyrical voice he whispered it in. But because I can feel the sincerity in my bone marrow.

"I know you are," I admit, doing my best to slide my facade back in place.

For a moment, I can feel his spirit waning due to the absence of my own declaration.

You stupid fool. You love him back.

I love him.

Tell him.

Feeling as if my breath has been cut off, I refuse to hide my heart from him for another second. As much as I want Oliver and Cannon to be here for this, to tell them how I feel about them as well, I can't deny Mazen this moment— his moment.

The moment when I speak four life-changing words into the wild. "I love you too."