Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Although…your definition of keeping a low profile needs major work.”
He exhaled a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s only for family events. You won’t find me at a sit-down or whatever.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “If there are wives present, it’s safe.”
Good to know.
“But you can’t tell me you believe the authorities won’t notice you.”
“No, they will,” he said with a shrug. “I just don’t have the energy to give a fuck anymore. They won’t be able to tie me to anything illegal. They’ll confirm my relation to Liam and Finn, and maybe some rumors will fly, but they’ll have no justifiable cause to turn me into a case.”
I inhaled through my nose and let his words settle. Maybe he was right. No matter what, it was oddly refreshing and reassuring to hear his confidence. He was no longer floundering or trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
I’d always been inexplicably drawn to that side of him, and it’d been a long time since it’d made an appearance.
“So this is who you are,” I murmured. “An unashamed, unapologetic Son of Munster.”
He offered a grin that faded as quickly as it’d appeared, and he reached out and brushed away a stray speck of ash from my shirt.
“I have too many regrets to be unapologetic,” he replied quietly. “I just… I’m done pretending and trying to fit in where I don’t belong.”
Fuck. Shan’s words came back to me, and I instinctively wanted to parrot them to Alfie, about how we could belong in two worlds—but why was it suddenly true? Because it was Alfie and not me?
“I don’t want you to have regrets.” I took another step closer, bringing us mere inches apart, and…fuck it. I cupped his cheek in my hand and made him look me in the eye.
The vulnerability in his bluish green eyes stole my ability to speak for a moment. It was too dark to see the gold flecks at the center, but I knew they were there.
“I don’t want you to pretend either.” I brushed my thumb over his dark scruff. I liked it. He used to be clean-shaven, but he looked damn delectable in a trimmed beard. “That includes now—not only when we were together.” I had to say it. “If you offered to leave all this behind for whatever reason, I wouldn’t want you to.”
He knitted his brows together. “For whatever reason? There’s only one. And are you fucking serious? You wouldn’t want me to walk away from…”
“No,” I replied firmly, letting my hand fall again. “It doesn’t matter how much I fear and despise the organization you’re part of, Alfie. If we want an honest chance at sharing something genuine as co-parents, it has to be real.”
He swallowed and lowered his gaze to the curb. “I’ve thought about making that offer, you know.”
I took a deep breath and—
“But I’m so sick of being lonely,” he whispered. “Let’s face it. I’m never gonna meet someone new—”
“I—”
“Please let me finish.” He glanced up at me again and swallowed hard. “I get it, West. In the end, I turned out to be someone you might be friends with someday because we have kids together. You’ll need that distance. I mean, you can accept who I am and what I do because it doesn’t have to affect you that much. We don’t live together, we don’t share our lives. At the end of the day, you can close the door and find comfort in that my mess isn’t yours to deal with.”
“Alfie—”
“No.” His voice came out in a low almost-growl. “But I’m not you,” he said, taking a calming breath. “There is no moving on for me.” His eyes welled up a little, and I coughed and nearly swallowed my tongue. “It’s gotten a lot worse recently too, because I—fuck. I don’t know. When you told me you had a date, I got so fucking jealous, and then I tried to taunt you—which you never responded to, and it pissed me off, ’cause I kept picturing you with other guys, and you’re only supposed to be fucking me.”
My brain short-circuited at the switch—to go from something as monumental as confessing he couldn’t move on, the gravity of such a statement, to then…go to sex. His jealousy. Claiming I was only supposed to be fucking him.
My mouth went dry, and I didn’t know whether to laugh—partly because I was terrified to admit I couldn’t move on either—or let out my frustrations and shake him forcefully because I didn’t need more images in my goddamn head. Did he honestly think I was completely over him? He couldn’t be that stupid. If I hadn’t cared about him, I wouldn’t be here tonight. I wouldn’t try to mend gaps and rebuild bridges. Same went for…intimacy.