Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

PETER

W hen I got home, I was exhausted. My body was sore, my mind fuzzy and angry. I needed to sleep. I needed to shower off the crazy of the day. I walked through the garage, into the house, and up the stairs. Ainsley was standing in the hall with a strange expression on her face.

She didn't speak, didn't ask what I'd been up to. Perhaps she suspected she knew. Either way, I had no desire to recount the events of the night for her.

I walked into the bathroom and stripped out of my clothes, turning on the shower. After a few minutes, I heard the door open again and saw her walk inside through the beveled glass of the shower door.

"What's wrong?" I asked over the noise of the shower.

"The police were here," she said, her voice calm and cool.

I shut the water off, my body cold with shock. "What?"

"It's fine. I handled it."

She lifted her shirt over her head then stepped out of her pants, pulling the door open and joining me in the long shower stall. She turned the water back on, turning the temperature up so the steam billowed around us.

For a long time, we just stood there, staring at each other. There was a kind of understanding there. We were in this together, and I think maybe we were both realizing that and fully accepting it. After a moment, she reached her hands out, wrapping them around my body.

The softness of her middle met the softness of mine, and we stood there, breathing and existing. I refused to think of anything else except how much I loved her. About what I would do to protect her.

When she pulled away, she trailed her hand down my stomach, her eyes meeting mine with unexpected, red-hot desire. I felt myself growing hard in reaction to the look in her eyes, even harder as her nails ran down my thigh.

I closed my eyes as she reached up, her hands gripping my neck as she kissed my lips softly. The kiss was gentle and sweet at first, then fiery all at once. A flame of passion exploded in my core, and I pulled away from her, spinning her around and shoving her into the wall. I pressed myself up against her back, my mouth on her neck, her shoulders. I bit down gently, then harder, applying pressure until she squealed. When she did, I let up, putting my mouth next to her ear as I entered her. I squeezed her breast, closing my eyes as I focused on her rhythmic breathing.

It was fast and hot, animalistic. There was no love in our sex right then, only pure passion, anger, and desire. I needed her, and she needed me. We let ourselves be used by the other.

When it was over, we collapsed together, sinking down to the floor of the shower, our bodies melded together as the water sprayed down on our stomachs. We lay there in silence for what seemed like an eternity before she turned her head to look at me, the water splashing in her face, droplets dripping off her nose and lips. Despite that, she barely blinked, almost oblivious to it happening.

She is so beautiful.

"You okay?" I asked, and she nodded.

"I just needed to remember."

"Remember?"

"Who we used to be…" she said.

I squeezed her arm, noticing the bright red bite mark on her otherwise perfect skin. "We're still those people."

"Are we? Or have we always been these people? Maybe we were only fooling ourselves in the beginning. Maybe this is the real version of us. This here."

I looked away from her, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. "Who can say what's real anymore, Ains? Real is what we make it." I gripped her shoulder. "This is real. The way I feel about you, that's real. Our kids are real. Whatever reality we want for ourselves, it can be real. We just have to fight like hell for it."

"Would you fight for me?" she asked, running a finger across my chest.

I turned my head, our eyes locking. "I'd kill for you, Ainsley. Without a second's hesitation."

She blinked, processing my words, and a small, sad smile filled her lips. "You already have."

I looked back at the ceiling, closing my eyes as the water splashed on us. We could've fallen asleep, I was sure. Maybe we would. I could've lain there forever. As I felt sleep begin to pull me down into its dark, familiar abyss, I thought of Glennon's words, and they brought me back.

I'd kill for you, but I can't tell you the truth.

I knew I had to tell her the truth, though. As much as it was going to kill me. She needed to hear it from me. Glennon's countdown had begun, and I wasn't planning on waiting out the clock.

I had to tell her soon.