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Downstairs, I fix tea. Hustle though a breakfast of raisin bran and milk. By the time I'm setting the dishes in the sink, it's eleven thirty. I need to get my ass in gear. To face my fate. Even if it's bad.
I pull the door open, ready to block out the world.
But the world is there.
Dean is leaning against his car, sunglasses hanging in his bright blue t-shirt, eyes on me.
The storm clouds surrounding me dissipate.
With the sun bouncing off his light hair, he's positively angelic.
Maybe that isn't wrong.
Maybe it's every kind of right.
"I've got good news and bad news." He pushes off the car and moves up the concrete pathway. "Which do you want first?"
"The bad news."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"What's the good news?"
He closes the distance between us. Until he's standing on the porch a foot away from me. "I'm not going anywhere."
My lips curl into a half-smile. "What if I want you to leave?"
"Too bad."
"You're not respecting my wishes."
"Not if this is some way to protect me." He moves closer. "If you're sick of me. If you're done with me. If you were using me for my body, sure. I'll leave. I'll follow you to the hospital and make a scene. But I'll scram eventually."
I shake my head. "I'm not done with you."
"Then you're shit out of luck, sunshine." His fingertips skim my hips. "I'm not going anywhere."
My heart thuds against my chest.
He moves closer. Until he's six inches away.
His palm rests on my hips. The other goes to my cheek.
He rubs my temple with his thumb.
He stares into my eyes like I'm everything he needs.
God, those deep blue eyes…
I can't let him stay but I can't tell him to leave either.
"Dean." My eyelids flutter together. My head falls to one side. Into his palm. God, his touch feels good. Like everything I want. "You should go now. You should get out before you fall in love with me."
"Too late."
My heart thuds against my chest. I reach for a response, but my mouth is too sticky.
"I'm crazy in love with you."
