“You did?”
I nodded and closed my eyes, my cheeks blazing.
“You ready for a baby, Poet?”
“No.”
“Then we can’t keep doing this. I’ll wear condoms. We need to be more responsible,” he explained.
“Okay.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my naked breasts to his chest.
“I mean it,” he murmured. “No more playing with fire.”
“I think I’m learning to like fire,” I whispered, dragging his head toward mine.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he stated gruffly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Apartment
Brooks made me come again and then finally managed to drag himself out of the shower. He was dressed by the time I left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my body.
“I might be late coming home,” he said, grabbing his keys. “I’m packing up the rest of my clothes.”
“Okay,” I said. “What are we doing for dinner?”
“Barbecue? At the Copper Mule?” he asked. “We just ate there, but there aren’t a lot of other options.”
“We could cook,” I suggested dryly.
We both looked at each other and started to laugh.
“Yeah, barbecue sounds good,” I said with a huge grin.
“Invite your girl gang and their men to go out with us,” he suggested.
“A triple date?” I asked. “You sure you’re ready for that?”
“I survived the family dinner, didn’t I?” He strode over to me and kissed my forehead. “Your friends make you happy. So that makes me happy.”
“You’re too good to me,” I quipped.
“I can be better.” He winked and then his expression sobered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Brooks . . .”
“I was just thinking about earlier. And about how much pain you were in.” His eyebrows slashed together in concern. “I don’t like seeing you that way.”
“I know. But I’ve lived with it this long. I’ve learned how to handle the pain. And now, with you, I’ve got something else to add to the arsenal.” My teasing smile fell flat when he didn’t return it.
“What did you do before when you were in that much pain? Call out of work? Spend the day in bed?”
I looked at him and frowned. “No. I popped painkillers, went into the office, and forced my way through it.”
