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“Do you want to move in with me?”
She pulled her feet up onto the couch, curling in on herself, pointedly not answering, and I sat up straight, releasing my arm from around her shoulders to take her chin between my thumb and index finger. “Move in with me.”
“Why?”
I huffed out a laugh. I thought it rather plain. “I’m tired of spending half the week here and half the week at my house. We should live together and stop all this back-and-forth.”
Her eyes shifted somewhere beyond me, and I didn’t realize she’d have such a hard time with this suggestion. We were in love with each other, spent so much time together, this seemed like the logical next step, but Gemma practically vibrated with nerves.
I could physically feel her hesitation.
“What about Mr. Clooney?”
I curved my hands around her neck, my thumbs gliding along the slope of her jaw and collarbone, and I let out an exaggerated groan. “I guess he can come too. And Leonardo and Spot, which, by the way, is a really weird name for a fish.”
“It’s ironic.”
“So, you’ll move in with me?”
“I don’t know,” she said after an eternity.
“What don’t you know?”
She pulled out of my grasp. “It’s just—”
“I love you,” I told her, no longer in the mood to play.
“I love you too.”
“Then what is it? I don’t get it.”
She shrugged, and I held back a grumble of irritation. I didn’t want to push her into anything and suspected this had something to do with how self-conscious she was about her supposed failures. She didn’t bring it up often, but she’d remarked about the differences in our careers and the amount of money we each made a few times.
“If this is about the mortgage or bills or whatever—”
“Jason.” Her gaze fell to the couch, where she played with a fray of the material. “I love you, and I want to be with you, but this is all still very new.”
“I know,” I agreed, wanting to give her the space and time she needed, while also keeping her all to myself.
“It’s all just…a lot.” She slowly raised her gaze to meet mine. “Can we put a pin in this and talk about it after the new year?”
I breathed deeply. I could give her that. The new year was only a few weeks away. “Yeah, okay,” I said, trying to mask ,y disappointment.
“I’m not saying no.” She stood up, tugging on my hand to follow, and I unfolded from the couch, letting her wrap her arms around my waist. “Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Don’t be upset.”
“I’m not upset.” When she eyed me skeptically, I gave into a smile. “I am not upset. I’ll wait. As long as you want me to, I’ll wait.”
“Then let’s not make you wait any longer to take those pants off, huh?”
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Gem
I snapped awake with a knot in my throat. Stomach twisting, I threw my hand over my mouth, sprinting to the bathroom, where I fell to the floor, barely making it to the toilet before throwing up.
