Ex for You (Fated To Love You) - Page 47

But the bracelet didn’t get stuck on me. In fact, it didn’t do anything. Does that mean I’m not his soulmate after all? Why, why, why am I disappointed at that line of thought? This second chance is about Milo. It’s not about me. Five years ago, I thought I shut my heart down for business. I didn’t have time for someone’s games and all the drama that came along with relationships. I had a company to build and a son to raise.

I was fine. For the past five years, I never even thought about it. I have my fingers, and uh, the means to give myself pleasure when I need it. I don’t have to take it. I did not, as my sister once asked me, crave the D. Yes, she seriously asked that, and I was shocked. Anyway, long story short, I didn’t feel like anything was missing for me.

Then, Toren reappeared.

And now I can’t keep from asking myself if it would be so bad if he wanted this. If he wanted a soulmate. If he wanted me.

It’s not just about the physical stuff, though I have to admit my body hasn’t been right since he walked into my shop, and my thoughts haven’t been so squeaky clean. I know Toren hurt me last time. He hurt me badly. I didn’t see it coming, but at the same time, he gave me the most beautiful gift. What he had done to himself wasn’t his fault. Yes, I know he could have chosen to react better and differently, that he could have chosen to stick it out instead of panicking, but from everything I know and what Leandra and Taylen have said, he hasn’t been happy. So maybe he doesn’t know how to be happy.

Maybe if I had told him about Milo when I was pregnant, things would have been different. Toren could have changed his mind. Perhaps, even if we weren’t together, he would have been the Toren I see now. The Toren who can laugh, who has such an easy time finding joy, who is happy, and who can relax. He hated how life was unpredictable and how he couldn’t control everything, but now he seems so different.

Did I make the wrong choice? I wasn’t trying to punish him, I honestly wasn’t, but in trying to keep myself and Milo safe, did I hurt Toren too? Could I have changed the course of our lives? Healed things? Am I equally to blame?

If Toren wanted to start afresh, and if he wanted me, could I agree?

It’s a lot to think about. Too much. Instead, I quell my questions, wild emotions, speculation, hopes, hurts, heart, and the smoke-inducing burn in my brain. I have to remember that Milo is upstairs too. He’s the focus of my life, and I don’t want to do anything that would ever hurt him. I’ll remember that, above all.

I have an excuse ready, something to ask Milo to fetch as soon as I walk through the door, but the house is quiet. The first thing I spot is Toren on the couch, passed out. He’s upright with his feet on the floor, his head fallen back at what looks to be a neck-breaking angle. His eyes are closed, his mouth is open, and he’s snoring. Not softly either. He sounds more like a rusty chainsaw.

I put my hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle. I don’t want to wake Toren up. Since the place is so quiet, I have a feeling Milo is napping. Still. Meaning Toren fell asleep and didn’t wake Milo up, which means I’ll likely never get him to bed tonight.

I should be annoyed. Or something. I guess it’s more of the something because I can’t tear my eyes off Toren.

He’s a mountainous man with grape-bunched muscles, muscles of wrath, and muscles aplenty. But he’s also Toren. The man I loved with my whole heart and soul and every bit of my body.

I touch his shoulder gently since I don’t want him to startle and leap up like a pack of wild dogs and rabid toddlers are ambushing him. Just a gentle touch works as Toren stirs awake. He blinks up at me, and then immediately, his hand comes up to rub his handsome face.

“Shoot,” he whispers, his voice groggy, sleep still clinging to the lashes over his sparkly silver eyes. “I must have fallen asleep. I was just going to sit down for a minute and then—”

“Bam, the couch fairy got you?”

He grins. “Something like that.”

My hand is still hanging there like a blatant invitation, so I suppose I have no one to blame but myself for what happens next. Toren’s fingers curl around mine. I don’t jerk away, even as lightning bolts go zinging up my arms. I tug in an effort to get him off the couch, but when I give because he weighs approximately a ton, and there’s no way I can pull him up, he pulls me down.

Tags: Lindsey Hart Erotic
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