I grip her chin and say, “Whatever she says to me will not deter me from the fact that I’m in love with you, and nothing is going to change that. Nothing, Myla.” I lean down and press a very light kiss to her lips. “But I need to talk to her because she needs to know where I stand with you.”

“Okay.”

“Now go upstairs, get naked, and I’ll meet you up there soon.”

A smile spreads across her lips. “You want me naked?”

“Baby, I always want you naked.” I spin her around and give her glorious ass a smack. “Now get up there.”

She chuckles and takes off, glancing over her shoulder twice as I watch her. When she’s all the way up the stairs, I head to the kitchen where Nichole is sitting on the kitchen island, one leg crossed over the other, her hands gripping the edge.

“I’m assuming you two are back together,” she says as I lean against the counter across from her.

“We are,” I answer. “Is that going to be okay with you?”

She picks up her phone and looks through it, stopping on a text message. She then glances up at me and says, “I got a text from Myla. She told me that you told off her mom in the conference room. That you said you’d get the cops involved if she came near Myla. Is that true?”

“It is,” I answer. “I wasn’t about to listen to that sorry excuse of a parent demoralize Myla again. And I made damn sure she wouldn’t be bothering her in the future either.”

Nichole slowly nods. “Well, thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for your approval.”

“I know you didn’t, but I’m still saying thank you.”

Not wanting to say you’re welcome, because I owe her nothing after what she did, trying to break Myla and me up, I push off the counter and say, “Is that all?”

“No,” she replies, keeping her hands locked on the counter so her shoulders rise to her ears. “What are your intentions with her? Because she needs to matter in your life. You need to put her first. She needs to be the most important thing to you.”

“She is,” I answer. “But I can’t throw away my career for her either, Nichole. That wouldn’t be smart because then I wouldn’t be able to provide for her in the way that she deserves. Something you need to learn is that I can still care for her without having to be in the same room. She knew what my life would be like going into this relationship. She knew the demand of my job, and she didn’t need you convincing her that it was detrimental. If we were married, this would have been a different situation. And I plan on fucking marrying her, but we hit a bit of a speedbump these past couple weeks.”

“Wait . . . what?” she asks, her eyes widening. “You’re going to propose?”