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I’ve been worried about what she’s going to say. And knowing that she isn’t judging me makes everything so much easier to accept. She even said,As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.

That’s all I wanted. As I click out of the email, ready to close the laptop, I see my subject line again.Daniel Cross is my boyfriend.

I cover my smile with my hand as I pull my heels up onto the sofa. With my pillow snuggled up close to me, I’m in for a night of binge-watching housewives and reality television.

But I couldn’t really care less about any of that. I can’t get into a show to save my life— or work, for that matter. All I keep thinking is that Daniel wants to be …mine.

It’s been over a week and that’s still the case. Nights of hanging out, watching TV or looking over photographs I’ve taken. It’s almost normal.

Those stupid butterflies in my stomach won’t quit and it makes me feel childish and giddy. But even in the eye of the storm that surrounds us, I want him and he wants me.

That should be all that matters, right?

As I reach for my glass of wine sitting on the coffee table, I can’t help but feel like the bottom is going to fall out from under us. Like there’s something waiting on the edge of all this. I can feel it with everything in me.

Life doesn’t work like this. You don’t get what you want simply by asking for it.

I swallow a sip of the wine and the sweetness I was feeling only a moment ago tastes bitter with the last thought.

Daniel feels like everything. Like there was nothing before him even though I’m fully aware there was. There’s no way with our history that there will be more between us, no matter what he says and how well we play house together. There won’t be any family dinners with his brothers or any sense of normalcy in that respect.

No matter how much I wish that were the case.

Every day I’m waiting for Daniel to tell me he was wrong and it’s over. Or that he’s ready to go home and that I’m not welcome there. I like to think that my guard is up and that it won’t hurt when he does it. But each day that passes is another crack in that armor.

He fucks me like he owns me. He holds me at night so tight; like if he lets go, he’ll lose me forever.

And he kisses me like he’s dying for the air I breathe.

We don’t talk about the one thing that plagues me. About how we’re supposed to just ignore our past. He thinks we’ve said enough, but if that were the case, I would be able to sleep without the memories haunting me.

It’s hard to explain how I feel. I want to be happy and grateful. But it’s obvious I’m being naïve. This is too good and I know good things always come to an end.

“You want anything while I’m out?” Daniel asks, interrupting my thoughts as he steps out of the hall to the bedroom and strides toward me. It’s odd seeing him in my apartment still. I’m more used to his place, but tonight he’ll be gone for a while and I need the space.

The fresh smell of his body wash follows him into the room and I find myself humming in agreement although I didn’t quite hear him. He’s too distracting when he’s dressed like this. Black jeans and a crisp white button-up with one sleeve already rolled up while he works on rolling the other. Freshly shaven with his high cheekbones and strong jaw on display, it almost makes me wish he was always cleanly shaven. But that stubble …

Either way, he looks like a fucking sex god. He fucks like one too.Mysex god.

“I might be out for a while, but I can bring back something for breakfast if it’s too late.”

I watch the muscles in his forearm as he rolls up his sleeve and as I do, the desire is slightly muted by his comment.

That’s another thing we don’t talk about. We don’t talk about what he does late at night. I was quiet whenever Tyler would leave to go do something early in the mornings or skip school because he had to do something for “work.”

But we aren’t children anymore, and what Daniel’s involved with isn’t a high school game.

“Is this stuff for … back home?” I’m careful with my words as he grabs his keys off the kitchen counter. The jangling is the only sound in the room.

Well, and the ever-present clicking of the clock.

“Back home? As in, the family business?”

My gaze is on the tile in the kitchen. Soft gray with dark gray grout. It’s nothing special, but I can’t bring myself to look at Daniel and meet his gaze that’s obviously on me, so I keep my eyes right where they are.

He works for his brother Carter. Dealing drugs and God knows what else.

He’ll leave one day. Soon. He keeps mentioning it. The one question I ask myself every time he leaves is simple. Do I stay? Or do I go with him?

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