Finding Him (Covet #2) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,57

I wanted praise for donating money, not even realizing that less than a year later I’d be in that same hospital fighting for my life, and unfairly winning while Noah had lost his fight. This right here tells me one thing, Keaton: life is fucking unfair.” He slowly got up from his seat and walked into the kitchen.

“You can’t think about it like that,” I said softly as I followed him. “You know what’s crazy?”

“What?” He didn’t look at me.

I reached for his hand and then bypassed it and cupped his face between my palms. “I don’t pray. Ever. I don’t think it works. I think it’s a fairy tale you believe in so life isn’t so depressing—or at least I used to think that, but that morning I prayed, I prayed for more time with Noah, and then when they let us stay in the family wing, I closed my eyes and I smiled and I thanked God for the stranger with all the money—and prayed he’d know one day how much it meant to have a fluffy pillow and a down comforter, to go to sleep and know that Noah wouldn’t wake up with a sore back in scratchy sheets—crazy how all that time, I was praying for the very man who would one day help me write our story.”

Julian was silent, his eyes glossy.

I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth. “In case it hasn’t made it into your thick skull, thank you, because even if an act is intentionally selfish—that doesn’t mean it can’t turn into the most selfless thing you’ll ever do.”

Julian stared down at me. “How is it you can make me feel better when I don’t deserve it?”

“You helped a lot of people.”

He looked away from me. “And yet all I was focused on was helping myself, a happy accident, that’s what that is.”

I frowned. “You were at the hospital visiting your mom.”

He stilled. “Caught that part of the story.”

“I bet she was proud of you for doing that,” I said quietly. “Regardless of your intentions, it was a good thing. Own the good thing, ignore the rest.”

He looked at me then, his smile sad. “You deserved more than a fixed-up hospital room in your last days with Noah, you deserved everything.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Good thing my book partner got it for me.”

He started scowling again, which made my chest hurt more than I thought possible. I grabbed him by the face again and pressed a hungry kiss to his mouth.

I had no idea what I was doing.

Making him feel better?

Making myself feel better?

If I was being completely honest, it was this intrinsic need I had to make him smile, to make him understand his own worth. Julian didn’t see himself the way the world saw him.

All he saw was selfishness.

Funny, because despite his playboy reputation, the world called him generous.

And he was.

Generous with everything, including his kisses as he slid his tongue into my mouth, his hands finding my hips and lifting me onto the counter.

He broke away and shook his head. “Sorry. I can’t kiss you and not want more. We can get back to the book.” His expression was shut off, distant.

I knew he still wanted me. I could tell.

It was hard to breathe with all the sexual tension filling up the space between our two bodies.

He paced in front of the computer like a caged lion, and I watched him like the antelope that was ready to volunteer as tribute to be his next meal.

I’d never in my life had such a violent reaction to a man—not even Noah.

Noah was all lingering kisses and laughter at first.

Julian was brooding, sexy, confused, and so damn lonely that my chest ached.

“Sorry.” Julian turned around, his hands on his hips. “I’m ready for the next chapter.”

He didn’t want to talk about the elephant in the room.

The fact that we were writing a story he didn’t even realize he was a part of.

I wondered in that moment if he understood that he wasn’t the villain. No, Julian Tennyson had been my hero.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

JULIAN

She was staring at me like I was a saint when it was the last title anyone would give me, and I loved it, loved that she wanted to paint me like the hero for their love story.

And maybe that was the problem. It was another glaring reminder that just like her and Noah, this—whatever this was between us—would end, wouldn’t it?

All good things