[Prospering || Book 3]

19°

»"do all I can just to show you you're special..."

[play the song while reading, if you can]

"I believe that Bryson thinks I don't love him anymore and no matter how many times I say it, I don't feel like its getting through to him." Paris said into her phone, looking over her shoulder and seeing Bryson play with the girls.

"Why do you think that?" Sierra asked.

"Just the things he's been saying over the past few days; he misses the 'old' me, assuming I don't want to spend time with him, he looks at me like he wants to say something but he's scared or doesn't know how." She sighed.

"Maybe he thinks that you're going to go back to Jason once he gets back on the road. I mean, that Reign chick was just a little fling, you and Jason had a relationship. That does something to a man."

"What am I supposed to do to show him I don't want anybody but him, he's not going to say anything to me, I know him." Paris said, growing frustrated.

"Talk to him about it." Sierra said simply, "You guys always scratch the surface of your problems. Dig deep and find out what's wrong."

"Thanks, Si."

"No problem. Tell Bryson and the girls I said hi." She said before hanging up the phone.

Paris took a deep breath and walked into the room where Bryson sat playing with the girls. He looked up at her briefly and turned his attention back to the girls.

"Harley, Daph; go check on aunt Hattie. Maybe she'll bake you some cookies if you're nice." Paris said, opening the door wide so they could go out. The girls hopped up and giggled out into the hallway.

Paris closed and locked the door behind them. Bryson raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

At first, Paris thought to take Sierra's advice and talk but she was a bit tired of talking and figured it could wait until the next day. As she looked at her husband sitting on his old bed, it reminded her of the 18 year old Bryson, who the 18 year old Paris would die just to cuddle with.

He had just lost his mother and he'd been on the road for a while and even though he messed up also, she couldn't imagine that what she'd told him made him feel too good.

He needed to be loved.

She walked over to him and straddled his lap, putting her arms around his neck. He placed his hands firmly on her back, looking up into her eyes.

She kissed his lips, "I love you, Bryson Tiller. You mean the world to me." She mumbled.

"I love you too, Paris..." He replied, holding his bottom lip in his mouth like he often did.

"I want to make love to you." She said, staring into his eyes.

Bryson smirked, delicately laying her to the side. He rose from the bed and began looking around to the room.

"What are you looking for?" Paris asked confused.

"My keys."

>>>>>

Bryson aggressively threw Paris onto the hotel bed, quickly pulling off his shirt and pants. Paris did the same, not wasting any time to undress herself.

Bryson placed rough kisses all over her body while gripping her thighs. It was as if all the balled up anger he had was now being released through passion and love making.

"Bryson," she moaned, "Bryson— wait a minute."

He detached his lips from her skin and looked at her, his breath heavy, "Last time you made me stop, I asked you to marry me. I don't know what comes after that..."

"No, just— I hear you and I'm always listening, ok? Nobody will ever make me feel the way that you do. From the time I met you, I've always been listening."

Bryson gazed in her eyes, before crashing his lips into hers. For the first time in a long time they didn't see other as the woman I'm supposed to be in love with or the man I'm supposed to be in love with. They were just Paris and Bryson.

Paris going to college. Bryson starting his career. The house burning down. Brylee. The record deal. The twins. The tour. DJ. Reign. Daphne.

Everything seem to crack their bond more and more. Everything was a crack. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Even things that weren't meant to, put a strain on their relationship.

All they wanted was to get back to Paris and Bryson.

Paris and Bryson.