“Says fucking who?” He glares at me.
“Says fucking me, and since I am royalty, what I say goes. Also, Madison agreed.”
Brantley glares at Nate. “Tell her that it’s not a thing.”
Nate begins carrying me upstairs. “Oh, it’s a thing, and tell everyone to get the fuck out of my house.”
Tillie
Nate’s bedroom bleeds opulence, the only kind that you could expect from him. I roll off his California king bed, dragging the sheet with me while leaving him completely naked behind.
I smirk, raking my hair out of my face as I make my way to the glass wall that is on the other side of his room. I find it interesting that they’ve all moved to NYC instead of staying in The Hamptons. Maybe it’s a King thing. I run my fingertips over the walls. Dark grey with white trimmings. They almost look angry as they reach high up to the ceilings. The bathtub is behind a free-standing wall, along with a large shower head that stretches into a long rectangle. There are two walk-in wardrobes, one filled with all his clothes, and—I flick the light off, ducking into the other, where it’s filled with some of my clothes.
“Shit that you left at Mom’s.”
“Oh,” I whisper, not bothering to turn around to face him. “You just knew that I would take you back, huh?”
He chuckles, and I look over my shoulder to watch as he moves fluidly around the room, in all his naked glory. Muscles twitch with every movement and tattoos sprawl out everywhere with it. “Yeah, I did.” He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my torso while hugging me into his chest. He bites on my neck roughly. “You’re not a woman who can be owned. I knew that a long time ago. You may not belong to me, but you belong with me. And there ain’t shit you can do about it.”
I laugh, tilting my head as he drags his teeth over my shoulder. My eyes close as I fight the urge to moan.
He slaps my ass, pulling me out of my sex-induced haze. “I want to show you something before we leave.”
“Before we leave?” I ask, tilting my head and watching as he turns the shower on. Steam instantly fills the room.
“Yeah,” he smirks. “I promised you a fucking tattoo.”
“And you really do want to?” I ask, an eyebrow cocked.
He glares at me. “Baby, I don’t give a fuck. I would put your name across my head if I wanted to.”
My eyes drop down his body, taking every single bit in. I grin when I get to the K I N G that sits over his pelvis. “I know just the thing.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, slipping into the shower. “Bet you fucking do.”
We wash up, in between the sex, and get changed in record time. I end up throwing on something of mine that he had brought here. Casual Vans, skinny jeans, and a leather jacket.
We’re walking downstairs when he takes my hand and gestures down the elongated hallway. “When I built this house,” he starts talking while leading me down. The walls drip in blood, the red a darker take in the very eccentric home. “I mean, when I started on the designs, it was when I first found out I had a daughter. I designed her room first and then built around it. That’s why if you haven’t noticed—”
“—the house changes in themes. Based on your mood,” I finish for him, absently running my hand over the walls as we walk.
His fingers twitch in mine. “Exactly.”
“What did you do with Micaela’s room when she passed?”
He stops outside of a door and turns to face me. “If this is too much for you, I can change it. You can decide what to do with it. But for me, I figured this was what I wanted to do for now. A place we can go to feel her again when it starts to get numb.”
Nate opens the door and I pause. The walls are pure white with Victorian style window panes that overlook the backyard of the house. There’s a large purple rug in the middle of the floor and the walls are filled with large bookshelves, where all sorts of items sit inside little cubes.
“It’s perfect…” I whisper, stepping farther into the room. “I love it.” I turn around, flinging my arms around his neck and pulling him into me further. “Let’s get that tattoo.”
Tillie
Two weeks later
“This is weird,” Bailey murmurs, taking a seat beside me. It’s Halloween, and the party in the cemetery is in full swing. I think it’s the first time since we’ve all been back that I feel relaxed. After Nate’s display of his love for me, we spent the following weeks deciding what to do about our two homes. Obviously, he trumped me on Micaela’s room and the thought he put into his house, so we’ve decided to sit on mine. I refuse to sell it, it’s too perfect. Maybe we could eventually rent it out to someone we know.
“I know.” I shake my head, rubbing the palms of my hands down my legs. “I really miss Madison,” I add when my eyes drift around everyone that’s here.
Bailey hands me a glass of alcohol. “I hope I can meet her one day.”
I stare at the glass.
“Here.” She pushes the glass into my hands. I take it, placing the base onto my knees. The setup looks great. They’ve hung orange and yellow Jack-o’-lantern lights over the gravestones, and a DJ booth is set up near a large tomb.
“You’ll meet her. I plan to drag her home soon.”
Bailey laughs, her eyes flying around the place.
“Looking for Abel?” I tease, one quirked eyebrow.
Her face pales. “No. He hates me, and I hate him.”
“Hate,” I chuckle. “So much more complicated than its four letters.”
Nate’s arms snake around my neck from behind, and I tilt my head back to look
