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Rock cleared his throat. “I mean, maybe I could hook up with men. Why not, you know?”

I said nothing. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach that was some combination of excitement and disbelief.

“I don’t think you mean that, Rock,” I said gently.

“What if I do, though?”

I took a deep breath. “I understand it’s easy for you to kiss me, maybe. But actually being into men is different.”

“How so?”

I finally let myself look at him again, meeting his eyes. I’d been afraid to, as if looking at him would somehow make me fall for him completely.

“When I look at a man I’m attracted to, I want everything,” I said. “I don’t just get a little thrill from kissing. I want all of him. I want to connect, I want his heart, I want his cock. And it doesn’t feel like a novelty or a game.”

He was silent for a moment, clearly in quiet contemplation. “I understand,” he finally said, giving me a nod.

My heart was beating so hard inside me. Rock probably could feel it too, lying so close to me. I usually didn’t even talk to Cameron and Rachel about super deep things like this, let alone anyone else.

I wasn’t used to it. I felt vulnerable and laid bare, like I was somehow exposing my soul to Rock without even trying.

Words tumbled out of me now.

“And that’s probably why I am Foreveralone,” I said. “My expectations are probably too high. I’m not afraid of commitment, like so many people are. I want the whole damn package, and I’m not afraid to say it, and I think it scares a lot of guys off.”

“I haven’t had much luck in the long-term-commitment department myself,” Rock said softly.

“But you could if you wanted to.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want to get hitched to you?” I blurted out.

“Lots, apparently,” he said. “Maybe if we’re both Foreveralone, we should do it together, huh?”

“Alone forever, but together. You really are sweet, even when you make absolutely no sense,” I said.

He leaned in slowly and suddenly his lips were on mine.

I let out a small gasp. No matter how many times he’d kissed me, somehow each one surprised the hell out of me.

He smelled like fresh lime from the gin and tonic. He steadied his hand against the side of my body as he kissed me, taking his time. The kiss was clearly supposed to comfort me, but my cock responded immediately, stiffening.

“I really like you,” he murmured against my lips before leaning in to kiss me one more time. He said it as if he was describing something new he’d discovered, a revelation that was surprising him as much as it was surprising me. It wasn’t just an empty phrase to comfort me. It was real.

Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert. I wanted more. Way too much more. I swallowed hard when he pulled away, trying to control my breathing.

He was looking down at me, and I could see the reflection of tons of tiny string lights in his eyes. It was far too seductive, seeing someone in this dim glow, his body so close to mine. It made me feel possessive, even though I had no right to be possessive of him.

“Damn,” he said, his voice soft. He ran his fingertips over my lower lip, making my cock jump. “We really do make good boyfriends, don’t we?”

Why did everything he said feel like it knocked the wind out of me?

“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered. I didn’t know what would be worse: if he kept tantalizing me, or if I didn’t get to feel him near me for the rest of my life.

He groaned, burying his face against my shoulder. It was a shockingly tender gesture, and I resisted an urge to put my hand on the back of his head, holding him close to my heart.

“Oh, please,” he mumbled. I could smell his hair, the faint scent of this morning’s shampoo still clinging to it.

“What?”

He lifted his head, his eyes searching my face. “Do you really not realize how much I am enjoying it?”

He had no fucking clue the power he held over me in that moment. No clue that I’d probably do anything he said right then.

I gulped, frozen in place. He watched me, his eyes smoldering, like he could somehow read my mind.

“Come with me,” he said.

He may as well have dragged me back up to our bedroom. For a person in a walker boot, Rock was fucking fast. He held my hand even when we were back inside the hotel, in the hallway, plenty far away from anyone being able to see us.

“We didn’t even say good night to people,” I protested as we made our way down the hallway.

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