Page 190 of Hate to Love You
“Now?” he asks, confused.
“Yes,” I say darkly. “Now. Miss Wayne is staying with me for the night and her cat needs to be fed.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” he yawns. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Tell him I’ll text him instructions,” Abby says in the background, pulling out her own phone.
“You have his number?”
“Of course, I do,” she snorts. “We talk about you all the time.”
“Is that so?” I ask, raising my brow again.
“No! Boss!” Trevor says quickly on the other end of the line. “It’s not what you think!”
“Miss Wayne will be texting you instructions,” I say quietly. “We can discuss the conversations later.”
And then I end the call.
“You asshole,” Abby snorts, shaking her head. “You know the poor kid is going to panic now and probably rush over there.”
“Yeah,” I shrug with a wicked grin. “But your cat will be grateful.”
Abby lays with her head on my chest, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of mine. The two of us have been laying in my bed silently for the last half hour, as a soft rain patters against the windows of the penthouse, and Caesar sleeps quietly in the corner.
“I feel like we should talk,” she says softly. “But I’m not exactly sure where we should start that conversation.”
I know where I’d like to start it.
But somehow, I also know that would be a mistake.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, slipping my hand up the back of her shirt and running my fingers along her soft smooth skin.
“You’re in the mafia,” she says, more as a statement than a question. “I…accidentally saw it on your phone earlier today.”
I smirk, biting my bottom lip.
“It wasn’t an accident,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. “I wanted you to see it.”
She says nothing, and breathes in deeply, her chest rising and falling as the beat of her heart thumps against my skin.
“Why?” She finally asks.
“Why what?”
“Why did you want me to see it?”
This time it is me who inhales deeply, pausing as I contemplate my next words carefully.
“Because it’s who I am, Abigail,” I say, swallowing hard. “It’s who I’ve always been.”
There’s no stopping my pulse from accelerating, realizing that this conversation may be a turning point in my relationship with the woman I have wanted for so very long.
It may also be my undoing.
But I know there’s no way around it, and I also know there’s no hope for any kind of future with her without it.
“I’ve already told you that I’ve wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you,” I say quietly. “I told myself I shouldn’t desire you, because you belonged to another man. And when you disappeared, well, I thought that was the universe’s way of telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”