Cupping my face in his hands, he tilted my head back and kissed me sweetly.
"I love you."
"You're getting good at saying that."
He ran his fingers through my new bangs.
"Remember that night, when you had your nightmare and I was out late? You wondered where I was."
"I still wonder."
"I was at the hotel, clearing out that room.
My f**k pad, as you called it.
Explaining that while you were puking your guts out didn't seem to be the appropriate time."
My breath left me in a rush.
It was a relief to know where he'd been.
An even bigger relief to know that the f**k pad was no more.
His gaze was soft as he looked at me.
"I'd completely forgotten about it until it came up with Dr.
Petersen.
We both know I'll never use it again.
My girl prefers modes of transportation to beds."
He smiled and walked out.
I stared after him.
The security guard filled the open doorway and I shoved aside my roiling thoughts to examine later, when I had the time to really grasp where they were leading me.
* * *
On the walk home, I picked up a bottle of sparkling apple juice in lieu of champagne.
I saw the Bentley every now and then, following along, ever ready to pull over and pick me up.
It used to irritate me, because the lingering connection it represented deepened my confusion over my breakup with Gideon.
Now, the sight of it made me smile.
Dr.
Petersen had been right.
Abstinence and some space had cleared my head.
Somehow, the distance between me and Gideon had made us stronger, made us appreciate each other more and take less for granted.
I loved him more now than I ever had, and I felt that way while I was planning on a night just hanging out with my roommate, having no idea where Gideon was or who he might be with.