I emerge from the bathroom after cleaning myself up and grabbing a warm, damp washcloth for EJ, only to discover her scrambling from the bed, obviously trying to make a getaway.

Drawing to a stop, I narrow my eyes on her. “Leaving so soon?” I can’t help the sharpness in my tone. It’s not like I expected her to just up and leave after some of the hottest sex of my life.

Her head whips around, her eyes wide, startled. “I, uh”—she shrugs—“thought I’d leave you be.”

“Get back on the bed.” My command brooks no argument. When she hesitates, I raise my hand holding the washcloth. “I need to clean you up.”

There’s a soft flush that spreads across her cheeks. “I can do that myself.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Get on the bed, EJ.”

With a huff, she relents and returns to the bed, leaning her back against the pillows. “Fine, Mr. Bossypants.”

My lips quirk at her comment, but I don’t respond. I pad over to where she’s lying and gently use the washcloth to wipe her clean. When I hear her sharp intake of breath, my eyes instantly find hers.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she answers quickly. At my pointed look, she averts her eyes before adding quietly, “It was just a little…sore since I don’t”—I strain to hear the rest when she mumbles—“do that regularly.”

She’s still avoiding my gaze, and it’s probably a good thing since I have the biggest shit-eating grin on my face. Not because she’s sore, but because she basically admitted that she hasn’t been with anyone regularly. Especially not since the last time we were together.

I can’t deny that I’d wondered about it. Worried about it. Hated to consider it.

“I’m sorry I made you sore.” With a gentle touch, I place a hand on her smooth thigh. When her eyes lift to mine, I wink. “But I can’t say I’m not glad I’m the one who did it.”

Her lips part, and she leans forward to shove at me. “Jerk.”

My hand slips around to cup her nape and guide her to meet my lips in a soft kiss. I speak against her parted lips. “You like this jerk. Admit it.” I refuse to acknowledge how much I want her to admit this.

She mumbles something that I can’t quite decipher.

I lean back slightly. “What was that?”

She squints at me, but the corners of her mouth quiver as she fights a smile. “Maybe.” She raises a hand and places her thumb and forefinger about a half inch apart. “Like that much.”

Turning slightly, I toss the damp washcloth into the bathroom, vaguely aware of the faint sound of it landing on the tiled floor. I return my attention to her, noting the mischief in her light-blue eyes.

“I think it’s a little more than that.”

“Really? How much more?” Her eyes dance merrily.

I school my expression into one of stern concentration and hold my hands about seven inches apart. “Probably about this much.”

I can’t restrain my wide grin when I see the insinuation finally dawn on her.

She narrows her eyes and shoves at me again. This time, I catch her wrist, my fingers encircling it and tugging her to me for a deep, wet kiss. My tongue delves inside, and I know I could kiss her forever and never tire of it.

Once our lips finally part, we’re both breathing heavily. When I catch sight of the time on the clock sitting beside my bed, I note the late—or, rather, early—time and groan with dismay.

“We have a long day tomorrow.” I help her settle beneath the covers, ignoring her quizzical glance, before I slide in beside her. I know what she’s not asking.

Why aren’t you kicking me out of your bedroom?

Why do you want me to stay in your bed?

I refuse to answer her unvoiced questions because the truth of my answers is pretty damn scary.

Because I never want her to leave.

* * *

It takes a moment for me to realize I’m not having a dream. That this is actually happening and it’s oh, so very real.

And so fucking good.

With my eyes still closed, I thread my fingers through her hair, relishing in the sensation of the silky strands and the way it brushes against my thighs. The suction she creates with her mouth is fucking heaven, and I work hard to resist the urge to thrust deep inside her mouth.

I clench my fingers, tightening my grip on her hair. “If you don’t want—”

I fail to finish voicing my warning because she suddenly creates a stronger suction and does something with her tongue that pushes me over the edge. I tighten my grip of her hair, my fingers fisting the tresses, as I erupt, shooting hot spurts in her mouth. She takes it all, sucking me dry until I’m limp and completely boneless.

Once I find the strength to open my eyes, I peer down and watch as she rises up, a smug grin playing at her lips. “Good morning.”

“Morning, beautiful.”

When she shifts with the intent to move back beside me, I snake an arm around her and tug her close, fitting her against me. Ducking my head, I feather a light kiss on the top of her head and close my eyes, content to simply hold her.

Hell, I’d give anything to stay here with her, just like this; forever, with no interruptions.

As if on cue, my phone’s alarm goes off, alerting me to the fact that we need to get ready for her father’s birthday festivities. I hadn’t even realized how late we slept, but considering everything, it’s really not much of a surprise.

Reaching over to where my phone’s sitting on the nightstand, I silence it quickly and return to holding EJ tight.

“Damn reality and obligations. I’d much rather stay here.” My tone is hushed, and I press another kiss to the top of her head.

“Me, too.” Her whisper is faint, but the way she snuggles into my embrace sends warmth rushing through me.

We lie here for a while longer, and I’m on the verge of falling back asleep when I hear her quiet voice. “I’m scared, Knox.”

With a frown, I peer down at her, but she doesn’t shift to meet my eyes. “About?”

She pauses. “Seeing him again.”

I run a hand over her back in a comforting caress. “I promise, if he’s an ass, we’ll leave.”

This gets her attention. Her head lifts from my chest, and my heart falters at the sight of her mussed hair and sleepy eyes. “Really?” Her eyes search mine as if in disbelief of my promise.

I cup her face with one hand and skim her cheek with the pad of my thumb. “Really.”

She ducks her face and presses a kiss to the base of my throat before settling her cheek against my chest again.

Staring up at the ceiling, I smooth a hand over her hair in a caress and, lost in thought, my words spill out without any consideration.

“I’m not complaining about being woken up that way, but I didn’t get to surprise you with a daisy. It’s not as exciting if I give you one after we…” I trail off as what I’ve just admitted to dawns on me.

Emma Jane doesn’t immediately respond, but when she finally does, it’s barely more than a whisper. “I always loved…love getting daisies from you.”

I release a rush of breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. My lips curve up in a slow smile. “Well, then.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, her hair so smooth and silky against my lips. “I’ll just have to pick you one after we shower.”

Instantly, her arms wrap around me, and she hugs me so tightly that it catches me off guard.

She turns her face slightly. “Thank you.” Her words are spoken softly against my neck before she presses a delicate kiss on it.

That kiss that forces me to face what I’ve been trying to deny all along. What I’ve denied for the past eight years.

I never got over Emma Jane.

I still love her—the woman who shattered my heart.