Nineteen

I bite my lip and make my way to our bedroom.

I decide on taking a bath because I'm not quite ready to go to sleep yet. I need to unwind. There's too much vulnerability swimming through my veins to talk marriage with James again. I'd just end up a bawling muffled mess. Plus, he's kept his distance today, so there's not much driving me to do that.

I turn on the water to start my bath, then I undress and tie my hair up. I want him to know marriage isn't off the table, but I need time to process it. I went from not wanting to marry to changing my mind and being open to it in the span of a couple of hours. That's a lot for my heart to bear and my mind to process.

Stepping into the steaming hot water, I sigh as I sink down. My eyes close as I listen to Demi Lovato's voice croon out a heartbreaking ballad. Her brutal honesty somehow manages to trigger an arrangement of emotions to bloom inside of me.

The thing is, James Riviera is the only man who has ever done it for me. It would almost be hypocritical of me to not marry him, really.

I wave the water between my fingers, watching the bubbles fizz. Could it be possible we'd be even more in love and happy together? Like Natalie said, James loves to live by the law, so a marriage certificate would mean a lot to him. Seeing him happy would make me happy too.

I let out a long, tired sigh and sink further into the water until it hits my neck. My eyes are growing heavy when I hear the wood floor creak below me. This brownstone echoes and we can hear everything. I know exactly where that creak is too—in the kitchen near the small bar. The decanter clinks together and I can hear the faint sound of liquid being poured twice.

Hope branches through me. I sit up a little higher and hold my breath, knowing he's headed up to me.

The door pushes open and James steps inside, gently kicking it closed behind him. Blush tints my cheeks and my teeth dig into my bottom lip at the sight of him. My heart desires him in ways that turn me into a stage five clinger, and I'm not ashamed in the least. My eyes openly drag down his body. He's wearing sweatpants that sit low on his hips and nothing else. I run my tongue over my lip, staring at the space between his hips. His manly appeal makes him so fucking gorgeous. James is in excellent shape, despite his apparent age showing. I love how hard his body is. The fact he doesn't look like a twenty-year-old makes me ache even more for him. There's just something about a man, an older, real man, with a good career whose wisdom and confidence are his sex appeal.