I gave her four hours.

Four hours of pacing my apartment, almost ripping my hair out. I even contemplated cleaning the oven, something Alice always tells me makes her feel better, before I decide to go over there.

I love her, dammit, and I love Lennon. I’m not going to be an outsider during this, and if I have to give Derek a piece of my own mind, I surely will. She may not want to be smothered right now, but too bad. That’s what I was here for, to be her punching bag and pillow to cry on.

Walking into her building, I wave to Jerry at the front desk.

“Hey, Jake.” He gives his usual salute, and I remind myself that he wasn’t the guard on duty this afternoon when Derek had come in.

For that person would surely know something weird is going on. I send up a little thank you to the big man upstairs that Jerry didn’t see the awkward family reunion just hours before, because he might have some questions before I was allowed up to see Samantha. Or worse, make a call up to her before letting me go up. She might say no, and surprise was the only thing working in my favor right now.

As I ride the elevator up, I think of everything we’ve been through thus far. That disastrous first date where I weaseled out of replacement-dad duty. One hot fucking night at the bar that ended up in my apartment. Jesus, thinking about Samantha naked under me for the first time almost distracts me from what I need to get done. Working hard to keep our relationship going, to even make it exist between our hectic schedules, her daughter, and both of our inabilities to fully commit. And then finally committing, giving in to the feelings and seeing where it went.

Which brought us here, to me standing in her elevator like some white knight climbing the castle to save her from the dragon. Only we were living in two thousand seventeen, and I wasn’t climbing a rope made of her hair, and the dragon was a metaphor for her own heart standing in the way. Hell, I have been reading way too many fairy tales to Lennon.

The elevator dings as it hits Samantha’s floor, and I take my keyring out of my pocket, flipping to her key. She’d given it to me two weeks ago, dropping it in my morning coffee cup like some kind of romantic comedy movie. I’d joked with her, making up nicknames for what the movie of us would be called. But deep down, the gesture wasn’t lost on me. It was an advance of our relationship, and it meant she trusted me with her most precious belongings.

I don’t knock, if she knew anything about me by now, she should know I was bound to come over here anyway. Unlocking the door, I walk in, the apartment quiet and calm without the little rugrat running around before bedtime. It ticked me off that Derek had shown up, a flickering candle of fury had been lit in the back of my mind since he’d walked across her lobby this morning. He had no claim to be a father anymore. Not when he had missed so much, for so long.

“Babe?” I call out quietly, not wanting to wake her if she fell asleep out of exhaustion.

“Why am I not surprised?” Her face is makeup free, and I notice my extra-large T-shirt hanging off of her as she walks into the kitchen.

I don’t give her a minute to start the argument again. Instead, I cross the room, my body quickly finding hers, and sweep her up into my arms, covering her lips.

“Sto—” she protests, trying to turn her head.

The dominant in me comes out, forcing her mouth to mine. Samantha wants to put up her walls now, and I want to do nothing but smash them. I use my tongue to coax her aching heart to trust, my teeth to nibble at her stubborn pride. My mouth acts as my reasoning tool, talking to her mind and heart when I physically can’t.

After thirty seconds of trying to push me away, Samantha melts into the kiss, sighing in a relieved way and letting me take control. I assault her mouth in a slow barrage of kisses, only pulling away when I feel that she won’t fight me any longer.

“You don’t get to walk away, okay? If you want to use me as a punching bag, do it. But you don’t get to leave.” I press my forehead against hers.

“Okay,” she whispers, her fingers tangling in my shirt.

I move us to the small table in her kitchen, realizing neither of us has probably eaten since this morning.

“I’m sorry, baby …” She chokes it out and then clears her throat. “I just … what if he files? I can’t lose her, Jake. I can’t do the joint custody, shipping her back and forth. And maybe I could if I knew he was sincere, but this is Derek. God, I know I haven’t talked about him much, but he doesn’t care about her. That’s a horrible thing to say about the father of my child, and I know deep down he loves her in some way, but he doesn’t care about her. He doesn’t want the responsibility. How could you not fucking want that?! Just look at her!”

Samantha buries her face in her hands, and I let her bang a fist on the table in frustration.

“If she were mine, I’d be calling her every single night to see how her day went. No, actually I wouldn’t. I would fucking be here, move my life so that it could include that little girl. I’m furious he’s here, you don’t know how hard it was to keep my fists by my side while I watched him play with her in the park.”

“I know that, you don’t think I know that?” she whispers, and I can hear the tears in her throat. “Seeing him again … it isn’t pleasant, babe. I don’t feel the way I once did, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t feelings of regret or resentment there. When I was with him … I thought I was defective. Like if he hadn’t asked me to marry him in all of those years, there was something wrong with me. With her. That we weren’t enough, that we couldn’t be loved enough to warrant that kind of commitment.”

That flicker of fury turns into a burning torch, and I want to pick up my pitchfork and go hunt the bastard.

Grasping the sides of her face, I make those chocolate eyes look straight into mine. “And you know that’s not fucking true. I love you, and I love Lennon. He’s an idiot if he can’t see how good he had it. How good he still does, because clearly that little girl holds no grudge against him.”

“What am I going to do if he takes this to court?” Her eyes plead with me for an answer.

“We are going to fight. Hell, I’ll fight him colosseum style to the death. He’s not going to win, babe. Honestly, the guy has shown no balls thus far. He’s probably bluffing because he’s feeling neglected and wants attention from you. Because you gave it to him for so long without him having to give any back. And that’s not on you at all, I’m just saying that it’s his MO.”

She nodded, still not looking convinced.

I scoot my chair so that her legs are positioned between mine, and hold her hands. “I promise you, everything is going to work out. And have I ever lied to you?”

Those gorgeous cherry lips give me a half-smile. “One time you said that you liked my chicken Alfredo, but two weeks later when we were out to dinner you said you hated Alfredo sauce.”

I tickle her hip lightly. “That was a white lie. And if I’d eat Alfredo for you, bleh, you must know that I love you?”

“I guess it must be true.” Her hand traces the hair on my arm.

“Now that that’s settled, I’m going to feed you. Not Alfredo sauce, because I’m not sure why the people of Earth love that cheesy unflavored mess so much, but I’ll whip something up.”

I go to stand, but Samantha’s hand catches my belt. “What if I’m not hungry?”