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“That’s not necessary, Brock.”
“It is. I love you, Rory, and I don’t want to keep any secrets from you. I’ve seen what secrets do to relationships.”
“Giving me a key to your place isn’t like telling me a secret,” I say.
“But it is. Don’t you see? I want you in every part of my life.”
I warm all over. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do. And yeah, it scares the shit out of me, but it is what it is.”
I smile, and he leads me into the house. Sammy rushes around us, pimping herself out for scratches behind her ears, and we oblige. Then Brock lets her out the back door to do her business.
He touches my cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
“You said please.” I smile.
“I did. Is that why you came?”
I shake my head. “I would have come anyway. I love you. But you don’t strike me as the kind of man who says please a lot.”
“I seem to say it a lot now. With you.”
“I like that. I like that you want me with you that much. That you’re willing to say please.”
“Oh, sweetheart…you have no idea how much I want you. But I honestly didn’t call you over here for sex.”
“It doesn’t matter if you did.”
“I won’t turn you down”—he gives me a rakish smile—“but I just wanted to be with you. You’re like my safe place, Rory.”
“And you’re mine.”
“I never thought I’d need a safe place.”
“There’s no shame in needing a safe place.” I trace his lips with my finger.
“I know. It’s just… I never thought…”
“It’s okay. Families aren’t perfect.” I sigh. “I should know.”
“I never thought they were. But I did at least think that my family—the Steels—were upright citizens. The best of the best.”
“Maybe they still are.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I just don’t know.”
“Let me take you to bed,” I say. “You can forget about it, at least for tonight.”
He kisses me then. A beautiful kiss—and though it’s not as raw and needy as most of our kisses, it’s full of love. Full of safety.
Which is what he needs.
I take the lead, which I’m not sure I’ve ever done with Brock, but I feel he needs it right now. I don’t mind taking the lead. In fact, I like it.
I entwine his fingers through mine and walk toward his bedroom.
His bed is unmade, and I can’t help a smile. Doesn’t matter.
