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"Yes," he whispered against my mouth. "Like it's supposed to be..."
I stepped back, but he pulled me against his chest and pressed one last kiss on my lips. "We need to talk right after I tell them to leave. "
"Okay." I could barely hear my voice.
He let me go and picked up the latte maker, carrying it with him. Then he opened the door and picked up the suitcase I'd placed in the living room—setting it against the wall.
"Hayley?" he said.
"Yes?"
"I think I used the wrong word a few minutes ago."
"I'm sure." I crossed my arms, waiting for him to return to being rude. "Let me guess, you changed your mind, and you don't want me to stay?"
"No." He looked genuine. "I need you to stay."
