Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,75

going on because of it, so be it. I’d rather know.

But he did say it back. And not only did he say it back, but when I looked into his eyes, I believed him. Knew he felt the same things I did, and whatever reasons we’d had for not being together, they were no longer valid. He was the guy for me, the one who I could honestly see something long term with. Someone who’d be my partner and not just someone to pass the time with. And I wanted to do it right.

Jared’s arms were around me, his warm body pressed against mine, and he’d done exactly what he promised. He’d gone out with Tibbs to some other club, then returned to Diablo just before I closed. Then we drove back to my place where we made love before falling asleep.

At first, it was hurried and hard, both of us needing the connection. I’d wanted to touch him since he made me come in his old bedroom, desperate to make him feel as good as he did me. But after the initial edge was taken off, we slowed down, taking our time and drawing it out, telling him I loved him over and over as he looked me in the eyes.

And then we slept, my body and mind completely relaxed as he held me all through the morning.

“What do you want to do today?” Jared kissed the shell of my ear. “I’m back on rotation tomorrow, but today, I’m all yours.”

Usually when I was in a relationship, I was the one with the crazy schedule. The one who was always apologizing for the insane hours. The lack of nights off where we could go be a “regular” couple, my fault. But I hadn’t had to do that once, neither of us had.

“Can I ask you a question about your past girlfriends?” I turned in his arms so I could face him.

His eyes narrowed, frowning a little. “Presley, you can ask me whatever you want. But they’re in the past for a reason. No point to even think about them anymore.”

He was more contemplative than usual, and I assumed it had been because we’d done the whole I love you thing. “I promise this isn’t me trying to bait you or using it as something to get jealous over.” My lips brushed gently against his. “But with the other girls you’ve been with, did they complain about your hours?”

It was obviously not what he was expecting, his brow scrunching as he focused on me. “What do you mean? Like when I have to work?”

“Yeah, were they pissed if you had to go on a Saturday or couldn’t do something on their birthday or something like that?”

He blew out a long breath, and while I was sure he didn’t want to talk about it, he wasn’t going to avoid it either. “Presley, I haven’t dated in a while. But sure, when it came up, it would sometimes piss them off. Who wouldn’t like dedicated weekends off? But that’s not the job I signed up for, and I sure as hell don’t want to be doing something else. Why?”

From the hesitation in his voice he had possibly—and wrongly—guessed it was going to be an issue for me. And rather than let him play out the scenario in his head, I decided to set him straight right away. “My ex-boyfriends always said that about me. That I worked too many hours, didn’t take weekends off. That the club was my first priority.”

“Well, of course it was.” He scrunched his brow like it hadn’t occurred to him to be any different. “It had to be, right? You were building something, and if it succeeded or failed, it was on you. What were you going to do? You’re one of the youngest successful club managers in the city, you don’t get that way by taking off work to cuddle.”

No one had ever said that to me.

No. One.

Not even my amazing parents who supported everything I did. They still thought I worked too many hours and were worried I was going to end up in my thirties alone with an ulcer.

“I love you.”

He chuckled. “And I love you. Is that what you’re worried about? Our schedules? Baby, we’ll make it work.”

I shook my head. “That’s just it. I’m not worried. You are the first person who hasn’t made me feel like I have to choose. Like I can have you and keep doing what I want