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Saint never said he had feelings for me.
He’d only said that he wanted me. Sex and actual emotions were two completely different things. I wasn’t sure that I could give my body to Saint and carry on like nothing had happened between us. No matter how long I’d yearned for his touch, I knew that it would destroy me to share my bed with him and have him walk away.
“Do you want to talk it all out first?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, and I knew that he was seriously wondering and not mocking me.
Even with the hard bulge sticking out of his ridiculous Santa pants, he was willing to stuff it down and have a conversation before doing anything more.
I nodded. “I think I need to. I can’t do this with you if it means nothing.”
And that was the truth. Even though I’d crushed on Saint for as long as I could remember, it had never been just a physical thing for me. He was the whole package. My ideal man. The guy I measured everyone else up against. Someone no one would ever compare to.
If we weren’t on the same page, then I had to jump out of the book completely once and for all and never crack open the spine again.
FINALLY COMING CLEAN
SAINT
Ivy thought I didn’t have real feelings for her. It was about time to clear the air and come clean. I’d been keeping it all to myself for far too long, too scared to cross the line or break the promise I’d made to Davey all those years ago. I cared about my best friend and didn’t want to disappoint him, but staying away from Ivy was denying myself true happiness. Something I knew I’d never find with any other woman… because they wouldn’t ever be her. And trust me, I’d tried. They all ended the same way—with me wishing they were blonde-haired and green-eyed with a sweet smile that was only meant for me and no one else.
“You honestly think this means nothing to me?” I wanted to be offended, but I couldn’t be.
The poor woman had no idea how I felt, and how could she? I’d never told her before today.
“I was just asking. I mean, I can’t have sex with you if that’s all you want from me,” she said, and I closed the small space between us and placed my hand on the back of her neck.
“I want you,” I said with a kiss, “badly.” I kissed her again, my tongue sweeping across her lower lip before taking it in my mouth and moaning. “But it’s not just sex for me.”
Her entire body relaxed underneath my grasp. Relief seemed to fill her, but in order to give her a little space to breathe, I took a step back. We both stood there in the kitchen, seemingly afraid that if we left this part of the apartment, what we had started would abruptly end.
“Really?” She didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“I’ve wanted to be with you since I was seventeen years old.”
There. I’d done it. Laid it all on the line, to hell with the consequences.
I really fucking hope Davey understands and doesn’t kill me. Or ruin our company.
“Seventeen?” she asked, and I could see the wheels in her mind spinning as she tried to place where and why I’d said that particular age.
“You were leaving the house for a date with Jordan freaking Ramsey.” My lips twisted into a snarl as I said his name, but something inside of her clicked into place. I saw it all over her face.
“I remember.”
“You were wearing low-rise jeans and this little white half-shirt. You had on a silver chain that wrapped around your stomach.”
“How do you remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
She gasped at my response as though she couldn’t quite believe it. Like all of this information was too much for her brain to process at once.
“But I went on the date.” She shrugged, still trying to make sense of all the things I hadn’t told her yet.
“And I was seething with jealousy.”
“You were not.” She sounded incredulous. “You never even looked at me.”
“I looked at you. I noticed you. Every change in your body. Every outfit you put on. Every time you tried to make my dick hard by wearing practically nothing in front of me and then bending over for no reason.”
