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As our mouths move together, our bodies pressed close, my hand travels up the back of her sweater, feeling the soft expanse of skin there—soft and warm from lying on my couch, under my blanket, and I’mglad. I want her to enjoy these things that are mine. I want to ply her with lattes and show her fall leaves and bring her to the top of a mountain so we can watch the sun rise together in its ribbons of color and light. I want to make love to her until the dawn filters in through the windows of the apartment. I want—
She pulls away, panting, her hand falling from my hair, and the spell between us is cracked but not broken. My arm is still around her—not because I don’t respect her need to restart the clock, but because her crutches are lying on the floor, and I won’t allow anything to hurt or harm her. That’s why I went to Byron’s apartment today. I don’t believe in hexes, but he clearly does, and he set one on her—that alone is enough of a reason for him to get a warning.
Keeping my head low, watching her, I say, “I think you’re probably about to say that was a mistake, but I have to tell you it didn’t feel like one.”
“It didn’t,” she agrees, licking her lips. My eyes follow her tongue helplessly, like they don’t know how to look at anything else, and truthfully, maybe they’ve forgotten. “But we can’t do this. At least not yet. I won’t…you need to go to that meeting with Daphne before we decide whether…” She lifts a shaky hand and gestures between us. “Because if you went, and—”
“Ineverfelt this way with her,” I tell her. “I never felt like I was in danger of getting carried away and forgetting my name and my social security number.”
“You remember your social security number?”
I start reciting it, and she puts a finger over my lips. “You’re not supposed to tell anyone that.”
“I’m showing you I trust you, because I wantyouto trustme.”
“Wednesday,” she says. “Go meet her at the bar.”
“I’ll cancel that,” I say. “I want to cancel it. I’ll just go to the meeting on Friday. The one at Big Bear Games.”
“No.” She lifts her hand and runs her fingers across my cheek, sending sparks of longing through me. “No. Go to it and see what she wants to say. Then…Then maybe we can figure this out.” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe what she’s saying, but Ineedher to believe it.
I didn’t expect any of this. But when one of life’s essential truths slaps you in the face, you listen.
“Wednesday feels very far way,” I say, swallowing against my dry throat. Feeling blood pounding in my dick. “But I understand your point. And I wantyouto understand that nothing is going to change for me. I’ll hear Daphne out, but the only thing I’m interested in from her anymore is selling the game.”
“But what about…I don’t think we should live together if we…”
“I could move. Find a studio or go stay with Shane.” I doubt he’d roll out the red carpet, particularly if he’s worried about this work bullshit, but I’ll figure something out if there’s a need.
“This is your home,” she says, her eyes wide. “You’d leave it for me?”
“So we can figure out what this means? Yes.”
She studies me, her one hand behind my neck, the fingers cupping it and sending tingles of need down my spine and to my dick. The look in her eyes, as if she appreciates what she’s seeing and would like to see more of it, is mesmerizing.
“What if it’s just a sexual attraction?” she asks.
“Then we’ll have a lot of really good sex, and it’ll still be worth it.”
She licks her lips like a woman who’s trying to drive me crazy and succeeding. “Okay. Even so, I think we should wait.”
“Even so,” I say, swallowing, trying to ignore the uncomfortable press of my needy dick against my pants. “What do we do now?”
“Watch the movie?” she asks. She’s still studying me, and it occurs to me that this must be some sort of a test. Byron the blond would have pushed her to forget her request. He would have taken a hammer to her boundaries. I can’t do that if I want to explore our connection, and after what just happened, there’s no uncertainty left in me.
I want Mira. I want her in a way that defies everything that’s ruled my life…and the beauty and terror of it is that I don’t care.
I sweep her up into my arms before she can tell me not to bother. My wrist protests but not enough to make me stop. I carry her to the couch, reaching down to move the blanket before I lower her onto the cushions. The blanket goes on top of her, the better to soak up her scent so I can have it with me if she’s not here.
“Danny,” she says softly, “you didn’t need to do that. I have to get better at hopping around on one foot. Otherwise, all of my muscles will atrophy, and it won’t be a good situation for anyone.”
“I know,” I say, “but it’s been a long day for both of us, and they won’t be doing much atrophying tonight.”
She surprises me by leaning up to kiss my nose, her lips a soft, sweet press.
“I thought we weren’t going to do that anymore.”
“That was the last one. I like your nose.”
