I gasped when he turned us, pressing us against the hard wall and wrapped my leg around his waist. His body began grinding against mine, our tongues clashing in a fierce battle for dominance and submission. He won, of course.
When it came to Aaron...
Two years, 3 months after the ending of Chained Lovers...
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I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes zeroed in on the faint bit of purple still visible in my hair. Shit my mum was going to kill me.
The one thing she hated more than anything was when I screwed with my natural dark brown hair colour. It was something I had been blessed to have inherited from her, she told me, and to mess with it, was an insult.
The purple highlights had been a mistake anyways, and taken several weeks to slowly fade. I would have to dye my hair once more when I got back home.
Home. Could I even call New York that anymore?
I heard a small cry from the other room, just as I zipped up my final suitcase. I grabbed the wedding invitation and dropped it on top of the suitcase. There was no way I could leave that behind, the bride would kill me. Literally.
Pushing open the painted purple door, I carefully walked in, avoiding the mess of toys strewn over the carpet. I was genuinely proud of her bedroom, having created it all myself.
The walls were painted a dusty shade of lilac, grey carpet was fitted across the floor and there was a small wardrobe in one corner with a rocking chair in the other. Her crib lay in the centre, crafted by a woodsman, back in New York.
The mobile was still singing its soft lullaby, gently moving in slow circles. I peeked in the crib, smiling at my beautiful baby girl. Her cerulean coloured eyes were shut, her fists bawled up at her sides and her raven curls wild and unruly as always.
I had tried everything to tame them, but eventually gave up. Choosing to trim them every month or so instead.
She was epitome of her father. She was her father.
Even her nature was stubborn and she had an obvious temper. The other week, she slapped some kid over the head for stealing her teddy bear.
I was proud of my girl for sticking up for herself, don't get me wrong. However, the other kid was rushed to the ER for stitches. Yeah, my girl can pack a punch.
Anastasia Selina Romano. She lived up to her name.
The doorbell suddenly rings, causing my baby girl to stir. I quickly rushed down the stairs of my small condo, praying they didn't press the doorbell again and wake Anastasia up.
Opening the door, a bouquet of flowers was immediately thrust into my face. The same violets I always received whenever he decided to pop over, smelt delectable.
