you. It’s imperfect, comes with fits of emotions, and makes your insides flip out. There’s no reason to it, and if it doesn’t scare the hell out of you, you aren’t feeling it strongly enough. Love is scary because when we love someone, we fear losing them. But without love, what’s the purpose of life? If we give ourselves over to love, we win—we always will win.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” she snapped, shooting up from the table. “Why would anyone want to feel an emotion that turns them inside out? I’m not afraid. I just like to make smart choices. That doesn’t make me a bad guy.”
“It’s not supposed to make sense!”
“Do you think bullying me will make me tell you what you want to hear?”
In less than a heartbeat, he moved to her, trapping her against the counter, pressing his body close. Without a word, he bent down, captured her lips, and drank in her flavor, groaning into her mouth when she opened for him, when her hands came up and gripped his hair.
Pulling back, he looked deep in her eyes. “Now tell me to go away. Tell me you don’t love me, never want to see me again,” he said before kissing her again.
“I . . . I . . . I can’t concentrate . . . can’t think,” she cried, her fingers gripping him tight.
He lifted her onto the counter and pulled her against him. Her robe had parted, allowing her to feel how much she stirred him. With his fingers in her hair, he kissed her again before drawing back.
“You don’t need to think. You just need to feel. What do you feel, Sage? What do you want?”
It took all his restraint to keep from undoing his jeans and plunging inside her. He could take her right now, light her on fire. But he didn’t want just her body—he wanted her heart.
She breathed heavily as he pressed against her, but her lips stayed sealed. “I don’t understand how you can do nothing but look at me. I’m trying to give you everything,” he said, frustration pushing him to act almost irrationally. When she still said nothing, he lost what little cool he had left.
“This was a mistake,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have come over.” He turned, upset with himself for caving in to his urges. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He already knew they had no trouble in the sex department. He’d proven nothing by doing it.
“I’m just confused, Spence. I’m so confused,” she cried out as he reached the door, making him turn. He said nothing as he waited for her to continue.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like to feel out of control. I don’t like not knowing what will happen next. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s not me. It’s not pleasant. I . . . please understand.”
Love shone in her eyes, but fear was its companion. She wasn’t afraid of him—it was herself she feared.
“Then I’ll give you time.” But maybe it wouldn’t work out after all. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to love him as much as he loved her. The very thought sent sharp pains through him, body and soul. He left the apartment not knowing what the future would hold.
He was at the bottom of the stairs when her door opened and he heard his name. He looked up to see Sage standing there.
“I love you, Spence, but . . . but it’s just not enough.”
The door shut, the click of the lock echoing down the stairs.
Spence bounded to the top of the stairs before he halted in his tracks. Even if he pounded on the door, woke all the neighbors, and demanded she come out, he knew she wouldn’t open it again. But she’d called after him. She hadn’t let him just leave.
She’d given him . . . hope. She loved him. Joy coursed through him at the realization. Yes, it was enough; yes, she would be his. His plans were back on, and he had no doubt that the future Mrs. Whitman was going to be his forever. Running a hand over the stubble on his jaw, he laughed aloud as he descended the stairs and got into his truck.
Ravenously hungry for the first time since their fight a few days ago, he headed to the local diner. A hearty breakfast followed by some phone calls and everything would be back to normal. Picking up his phone, he pressed in the familiar numbers.
“Dad, I need