finally plucked up the courage to meet his eyes, and my heart pounded harder in my chest. His gaze was pure adoration, and I just wanted to lose myself in the clear depths of his eyes.
He gave a nod, his smile soft. "You mentioned something about rules in your text this morning. I'm guessing you mean more than just not sneaking into your house to leave gifts?"
I bit back a smile. His gifts had been next-level thoughtful.
"I did. I need to be clear with you on this... you know, this thing, between us."
"This relationship?" he clarified for me. "I'm listening."
"I'm not moving in with you," I told him in a stern voice. His eyes flashed with stubborn defiance, and I shook my head. "This is nonnegotiable, Dylan. I need my independence. I need to find myself without being under anyone's control for the first time in forever."
Hurt crossed his features. "You think I'd control you?"
"I think it wouldn't be deliberate," I said gently, "but yes. It's just... your personality. And that's not a bad thing, I wouldn't want to change you for anything, but I also need to find out who I am—the real me. Does that... Can you understand that?"
He stared at me for a long moment, then breathed a long sigh. "I guess I can't argue," he finally responded, sounding unhappy but resigned. "But just because you're not moving in doesn't mean we're not together, right? We can still have sleepovers like any normal couple.”
Those words sent butterflies erupting through me. Like any normal couple.
I nodded, biting my lip to hold back the delirious smile that wanted to come out.
"Alright, agreed. You keep living here for now, and we can date—get to know each other properly this time. And then later...?" He looked down at my flat belly, and I heard his question loud and clear.
"We can deal with baby things as they come up," I assured him. "I won't cut you out of that part. But we have seven months before we become parents. Can we make the most of that time for us? Just us, not the baby."
His gaze met mine again, his lips curving in a wide smile. "Us," he repeated. "Fuck, I love that word off your lips, little bird."
I huffed, quietly loving that he'd repeated my thought from earlier. "Shut up and kiss me, pterodactyl."
He barked a loud laugh, then did exactly as I’d asked.
We kissed for ages, our hands roaming one another's bodies as we rolled around in my huge bed, but two things prevented us from taking things further.
One… I’d just gotten out of the hospital and was supposed to be on bed rest. For the safety of our baby, I really needed to check with a doctor before letting Dylan ram me with his huge dick again.
Two... "Dylan, I need you to do something," I told him in a breathy voice as our kiss broke apart. My lips were swollen and puffy and my whole body ached for more of his touch, but this was too important.
"Anything, Brooke, baby. Anything on this earth." His reply was so heartfelt that I almost groaned.
Licking my lips, I tried to slow my racing pulse. "I need you to go talk to Mary."
He paused, pulling back from my neck, where he'd started kissing me again. "Your housekeeper? Why?"
"Um." I swallowed heavily. Mary's secret wasn't mine to reveal, and I owed her the opportunity to tell him herself. "Just... trust me? This is important, Dylan."
Now I had his attention. He sat up with a suspicious look on his face and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. "Okay."
My brows rose. "Okay?"
He nodded. "Yes. You said it's important, and I do trust you." He stood up from my bed, then frowned down at the way his pants were tented. "Just, uh, give me a second."
I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh as he ducked into my bathroom. The tap ran for a few moments, then he re-emerged looking somewhat less flustered.
"Is she downstairs?"
"Should be," I confirmed. "Probably in the kitchen. She mentioned earlier that she wanted to bake cookies for the morning."
A wide smile creased Dylan's face. "I love fresh cookies."
And with that, he left my room to—hopefully—meet his birth mother for the first time, officially. The temptation to become a fly on the wall for that conversation was palpable, but he'd respected my privacy for so long it was the least I could do to respect his.