Chapter Six

Tobias

N ot long after Billy leaves, she immerses herself back into cleaning and making small talk with her customers. I lay low, hoping the rest of the shift will pass without incident or another public inquisition. The more I try to concentrate on the task of tying up a few loose ends for Exodus, the more I'm distracted by her presence mere feet away.

It's the ache of wanting her. It's the need to erase the distance, not just physically but emotionally. But on the physical side, I'm tamping down a thirst that's been constant since the first time I thrust inside her.

Cecelia has always been beautiful. Her face a mix of innocence and incomparable natural beauty. She measures above the average woman in that respect. Still, it's also in the way she carries herself with confidence, the way she beams when she smiles, the carefully conveyed words that come out of her mouth that express her warmth, empathy, and intelligence. In appearance, I still see some of her lingering youth, her curiosity for the world around her. She's forever a student, and I find that appealing. Where some women seem to be convinced that they're experts on everything after a certain age, she's always searching for ways to understand the world around her, to both learn and grow.

It's clear within just a few hours of being here that she has the respect and admiration of her employees and her frequent customers.

She's impossible not to love.

And the more she matures, the more she's become that woman, the unavoidable and irresistible woman who deserves every bit of admiration she gets.

Men have been falling for her since well before I met her.

She's never used her sex appeal as a weapon or fully wielded its power. If she were ever to harness that, she'd be a black widow—sort of fucking lethal.

And I'd be a dead man.

I've barely been able to tear my eyes from her today after denying myself for so long. I've never known another's body as intimately, nor mapped it as intricately as I have hers.

Instinctively, I still know it.

But she doesn't see herself the way men do—the way predators do. Especially because for a majority of her life, she felt like she was undeserving of love. I fed into that ridiculous notion when I was at my weakest to keep us from eating each other alive, but I fucked up royally in doing so.

I refused her heart when she begged me to retrieve it, revive it.

Jealousy isn't something I'm used to dealing with. Women have come and gone with me; my mission always taking precedence. Yet, this one woman has made it impossible to ignore that inside me lurks a heart in need of what only she can give it.

It wasn't until the day I witnessed how they loved her, the way Sean and Dom loved her, that I became acquainted with that type of bone-deep jealousy. And in feeling that, I lost control.

Briefly, I close my eyes and shut my laptop.

I signed up for hard.

I came ready for hard, to face and deal with the impossible, but it's the guilt that makes it the hardest.

It's the tension that's killing me right now. Her hesitation to even look at me.

I recall some of yesterday's conversation in the parking lot. Fuck being okay with whatever ending we get. That's not good enough. I want her happy. I want our ending happy. That's what I decide as I watch her interact with the people in her café. I want her smiling about thoughts of us before she ever greets a stranger.

I will do everything, anything , to make our ending blissful.

Simply being together is not enough. We aren't settling.

While she remains weary, I'll be ambitious for the both of us.

In our time at her father's house, we were blissful, content, despite our circumstances and the underlying threats to that peaceful state. Despite the fact that I knew we were a time bomb. Despite me .

Our pleasures came easy. She could look at me then. Now she avoids it.

Standing abruptly from the counter to stretch my legs, filled with restless energy and entertaining snacking on a napkin, I shoot off a text on my new phone.

It's me.

Sean: Me who?

Funny.

Sean: I'll shoot the number out to the crew.

The bubbles start and stop. I pause when I read his message.

Sean: How's it going?

Do you give a fuck?

Sean: Of course, I give a fuck. Report.

She's fine. She's good. Really good. She bought a café. It's nice. Her house is too. She's doing the daily grind.

Sean: Knew that already. What about you?

I read the text again. A question I didn't expect. When he, correction, when Tessa invited me to their wedding, I thought maybe then we might start to repair what was broken between us, but even then, things were off. The day we buried Dom, he looked at me like he hated me. And I know he did. This olive branch he's extending feels just as foreign as my position in my new life. I'm at the mercy of the people I hurt.

And I want to be here .

But fuck if it doesn't suck.

When I went to Sean for help in finding her, that's when I felt a little give on his side. Over the years, I've felt his absence significantly. I convinced myself our mutual cause is the only reason we're still part of each other's lives, despite our history. But a hope lights inside. Maybe that's no longer the case.

You really want to know?

Sean: I wouldn't ask, man. That bad?

Cecelia's priorities

Dog

Café

...

ME. And fuck you for laughing because I know you are.

Bubbles. I decide I hate bubbles as much as I hate peas.

Sean: You didn't think it would be easy, did you?

Hell no.

Sean: She's got you by the balls already, doesn't she?

More than that.

Sean: If it didn't hurt, then it wouldn't be worth it. You're too used to getting your way. Let it burn. It will be worth it.

Disgusted I need consoling this early in, and by him, I change the subject.

Things good?

Sean: Can't even last a day, can you, man?

Throw me a fucking bone. I'm useless here.

Sean: You're not even twenty-four hours in. Give it time.

I will. I am. I'm not complaining.

I can feel the hesitation on both ends of the phone. A minute passes before I get another text .

Sean: It's weird, huh?

You have no idea.

Sean: I have some idea. Wait until you go from Maverick to married with three kids.

Two kids.

Sean: Three. Found out this morning.

Congrats, man.

Sean: You going to have any?

I just starved half a day to make sure she didn't poison my sandwich. I think I'll table that conversation for later.

The bubbles start and stop.

Stop laughing. Dick.

Sean: You really have no idea what you're doing, do you?

I want to be here. I know that.

Sean: Go with your gut.

Familiar advice.

Sean: This will work out. Day one.

Day one.

I mull over my word choice and decide just to type the truth.

Thanks, man.

Sean: Anytime.

You mean that?

The bubbles pop up and disappear, and a minute later, he replies.

Sean: I do.

Unexpected emotion clogs my throat as more tension leaves my shoulders. Glancing up, I see Cecelia watching me carefully just before she pushes through the doors with hands full of dirty plates.

I reclaim my seat as she comes back through, and the bell rings for pick up. A second later, a new plate is set in front of me.

"Eat before it gets cold," she says softly. I grip her hand before she has a chance to walk off and bring the back of it to my mouth. Her eyes drop to where I press my lips to her skin before I release her.

"Thank you."