Page 72 of Broken Saint

“It’s been known to happen once or twice, yeah,” I confess.

“Tell me about it. Where were you? What was I doing? And what were you doing while you were thinking about all this?”

19

COLTON

“In my fiancé’s bed,” she confesses. “You used to do everything. All the things I needed but wasn’t getting. I used to wait for him to go out, slip my hand into my panties and pretend it was you.”

“Fucking hell, Bombshell,” I groan, my cock aching all over again.

“I used to call out your name when I came.”

“Fuck, yeah, you did,” I mutter before sucking on the sweet spot of her neck and making her moan.

“What about you?” she asks, breathlessly. “Did you ever think about me?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Every goddamn day, Ella.”

She stills in my arms.

“You’re lying,” she accuses.

“Trust me, I’m not. I never forgot about you. But recently, you’ve been even more present in my mind than usual. It’s like I knew you were coming. The universe was preparing me for this.”

“That’s a bit woo-woo for you, isn’t it?” she teases.

“Yeah, it is. It’s fucking true though.”

I might be willing to share a few secrets, but I keep any thoughts I’ve had recently about long-term relationships and how those look when one half is a professional athlete to myself.

One, I don’t want to get her hopes up. And two, I’m fucking terrified.

From as early as I can remember, I was of the opinion that serious relationships were toxic. That sooner or later, the supposed love turned to hate and everything fell apart in apocalyptic fashion.

Hell, I still think that. I’ve lived through the fallout, seen the pain it can cause.

But more recently, I’ve seen the other side.

Kane and Letty, Luca and Peyton, Leon and Macie. Hell, even Tristan, Knox and Violet with their less traditional approach. They all make it look so easy, effortless really. It makes me wonder.

But then I remember who I am, and I shut it all down.

There’s a reason everyone else makes it look easy. They don’t have the same threat looming over them. They don’t have to fight so hard to live a normal life despite the bullshit genes they inherited.

“What’s wrong?” Ella asks, feeling my body lock up with tension.

“N-nothing, Bombshell. You’re wet and naked and in my arms. There is literally nothing wrong right now.”

Liar.

Silence falls as we lose ourselves in our thoughts.

While I might be terrified of what having her here in my arms right now might mean, I’m powerless to do anything about it.

It’s right. Natural. Effortless.

It’s always been the same between us.