me to thank you.”
There’s tender gravity in his eyes when he says, “See, some guys do step up.”
Damn you. Don’t remind me that I spilled my guts to you and you now have even more power over me. This is exactly why I wanted to get away from him. Then I remember. My bus. “What time is it?”
“Six fifteen.”
“Six fifteen? Gage, what are you doing here? In my bed,” I point out.
Not even a hint of contrition. “I’m not in it, I’m on it.”
Outside the window, the indigo sky bleeds crimson along the dark line of the horizon. We gaze at each other in the red-tinted room and it hurts. His beauty is quite literally making my heart ache. It’s not just the handsomeness of his face or the masculine perfection of his toned, muscular body, it’s his expression. He’s staring at me almost … worshipfully.
“I needed to see you,” he says quietly.
I don’t ask it right away. I can almost tell, just by staring into his eyes. “Why?”
“I need to tell you some things.”
Gently: “At six fifteen in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Well, all right, then. Let’s hear it.”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
I remember the night we danced. “Because isn’t an answer.” We already have inside jokes.
He smiles lazily. Like he has all the time in the world. “You really want to hear the reason?”
“Well, since you broke into my room at dawn to tell me, it must be important. So, yes.”
He looks around my room. “This is a cool space. I like it.”
“Thanks.”
“Luna.” His expression is so hopeful and also so suddenly vulnerable that I can’t help it, I feel that glow deep inside myself, stronger this time.
I’m so in love with him.
“This has been the longest fucking weekend of my life,” he says huskily.
“It has?”
“Yes. It has. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I want to say some things to you but I don’t want you to answer right away, because I know what you’re going to say and I want you to give me a chance to say everything I’m going to say, first, before you say anything. Okay?”
“Um … ”
“Please.” He’s doing it again, where his swagger lifts at the edges and reveals the more raw, feeling side of his personality. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it—or the first time I’ve had the strange realization that this part of him is just for me.
“Okay. Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“You promise you won’t say anything until I’m done talking?”
“I’m not sure why—”
“Just say, ‘Gage, I promise I won’t interrupt you until you’ve said what you need to say.’”
I crinkle up my face and laugh a little. Because this is crazy.
“See?” he says. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Killing me.”
I sit up a little further and lean against the smooth, curved surface of my headboard. I take a drink of water from the glass on my bedside table. I keep the comforter pulled up to my collarbone to cover me. I’m still in my yoga shorts and a tight, cropped tank top. Gage sits up next to me. It’s hard to process the magnitude of how over-the-top gorgeous he is, all tousled in his ancient, snug t-shirt and his jeans, which fit him in a way that should be illegal. He’s big and sexy and, all of a sudden, so earnest he seems younger and sort of … sweet. His outrageous hotness mixed with this hint of kindness is a lethal combination. Because there’s no way in hell I can resist it for long.
I want to kiss him. I want to climb onto him and kiss his insanely beautiful mouth.
But then I’ll lose the bar. And he’ll have won.
“I’m still waiting,” he says. Okay, not that sweet.
I obey him because now I’m curious. I want to hear this. “Gage, I promise I won’t interrupt you until you’ve said what you need to say.”
“Thank you. All right.” He rubs his hand against his square, stubbled jaw. Then his aqua gaze meets mine. He doesn’t speak right away and the silence feels loaded. Like it’s about to change my life. “Maybe I should wait until later. Let me take you out to breakfast first.”
“Gage. Just tell me now.”
“I’m not sure you’re ready.”
“I’m ready. Just tell me what it is.”
He studies me, and then, as though deciding that I’m not ready enough, he says, “No.”
I give him an exasperated look, then roll my eyes. “You break in to my apartment at six fifteen to wake me up because this thing you have to