Remember This Part

16. And Good Morning, America

Alex.

I wake naturally in the morning to find my arm hooked around her waist and her back to my chest. It's a visceral feeling. I'll admit that it's also a good feeling. A very good feeling.

Normally, I'd be out of bed as soon as I got up. But at the moment, there's nothing I'd rather do than just watch Thea as she sleeps, feel the soft rise and fall of her belly beneath my fingertips.

I prop myself up on my forearm so that I can look at her from above. Seeing her like this—calm and at peace as the sun strokes her lovely face—fills me with a sense of satisfaction. I have to literally resist the urge to lean down and kiss her.

My resistance is in vain. I end up gently pressing my lips to her shoulder, and then I settle back onto my side and hold her for a little while longer.

Kissing her last night was unbelievable. Her mouth is so sweet that it drives me mad. And then there's her gentle touches, her soft breaths, the subtle scent of her hair. I don't use "perfect" to describe many things, but now the word sits on my tongue. It's the only word I can think of when it comes to her, the only word that was running through my head last night.

Until I scared her. The look in her eyes when the fear took hold...shit. It stole the air from my lungs, and the elation I'd had just seconds before crumbled in an instant. Even now, I can't shake the feeling. I should have been more careful with her. I should have gone slow. Instead, I lost my head.

I think I'd give almost anything to chase that fear away from her. I want her to feel safe with me, protected. I made a vow to myself last night before I fell asleep—I won't let anything happen to her as long as I'm with her. I'm not going to give her any more reasons to be scared of me.

I made a second vow, too, although that one was born of anger. I'm going to ruin whoever did this to her. It didn't take long for me to figure out that her trust is precious, something to be protected and handled with care. The person who failed to do that—the one who broke her trust and put that terror in her eyes—deserves the worst kind of pain, and I plan to give it to them.

The ex is a prime suspect in that regard. At the moment, I'd love to beat him senseless.

But I can't engage in that kind of thinking right now. I'm here with Thea, who's sleeping soundly beside me. The rest will have to wait until she's awake and fed. We have a lot to discuss.

I have to force myself to release her so I can get changed. Otherwise, I think I'd lay like that until it grows dark again. I'd call her an addiction, but addictions are usually a bad thing, and this isn't bad at all.

I head to the bathroom to take a shower, trying—and failing—to let my thoughts stray from her for a few minutes. When I come back out, Lyle is still asleep on the couch, so I toss a pillow at him to wake him up. He mumbles something unintelligible and turns over onto his back.

"Why'd you do that...?" he grumbles, rubbing his face.

"You'll thank me later."

I turn on the coffee machine and prepare a pot before heading back to my room, where Thea is just now starting to stir. She cracks her eyes open and a puzzled look graces her features. Then her gaze lands on me, and she visibly relaxes.

"You already showered?" she murmurs lazily, eyeing my damp hair. She twists to find her phone, checking the time with a scowl. "It's eleven?"

"You think that's cool?" I joke, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on my socks. "Just wait until it's twelve."

"You must've been called 'Smart Alex' a lot as a kid," she replies, sitting up and rubbing her eye.

"According to my grandmother, my nickname was el mierdito," I tell her.