“You love me?” I reach forward, finger the tie at her waist.

“Yeah, you idiot.” She licks her lips, and then bites the lower one because, fuck, she knows it makes me hard. “I told you that already. You think it goes away after a few days, like a temporary tattoo?”

Laughing, I bend, pushing the heavy terry cloth aside to kiss her collarbone. She smells like shampoo and the soft smell I couldn’t forget in a million years: honeysuckle and warm stone, Harlow and mine.

I loosen the knot at her waist and pull her robe open, groaning at the sight of her bare skin, golden and smooth.

Her eyes close and she moans hoarsely when I run my palms from her hips to her breasts and back again, pulling her forward into me.

“I’m sorry,” I say into the warm skin of her neck. “I’m glad we’re not rehashing, but I want to say it anyway. I’m sorry I split town, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday. And I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t call to find out if we were pregnant.”

She pushes me away so that she can look up at my face. “ ‘We’?”

“Fuck, Harlow, you didn’t do it alone.”

Laughing, she agrees with a nod. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Baby, that was two weeks of fucking miserable.”

She falls silent, pressing her face into my neck. After a few seconds, she hiccups and nods wordlessly and I realize... she’s crying.

I pull back to look at her, cupping her face. “Hey... no, don’t. I—”

“I thought it was done,” she says. I wipe my thumbs over her cheeks. “At the boat? I thought you were done with me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get over you. I’ve never had to get over someone before.”

“I wouldn’t have let it be done.”

“You left, though.” She looks up at me and two more tears run down her cheeks. “You just left and then wouldn’t talk to me and it was terrifying because with you I realized I’m that person who finds their guy and that’s it.”

My chest twists and I tug my shirt over my head in a rush before pulling her against me. I need her skin on mine, need to get my heart as close to hers as possible, and she shrugs out of her robe, pressing into my heat, her arms going around my neck.

The Harlow everyone sees is a force to be reckoned with. This vulnerable Harlow is rare. She’s just told me she feels what I feel—this is it, I’ve found my girl and that’s it—and I don’t want to fuck it up with her.

“We talk about everything,” she promises into my shoulder. “And you don’t ever leave me like that again. Promise me.”