My stomach dropped and I forgot how to breathe.
“Now, is it a yes?” he repeated.
With effort, I pulled myself together and asked, “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Yes,” he answered and I felt myself relax. “But only if, when that time is up, the answer is yes.”
I stared at him.
Then I couldn’t help it.
I burst out laughing.
When I was done, he was still holding my hand but he was doing it smiling at me.
And God, God, he was beautiful.
“I’ll just say that it’s only been a day where things have been cool between us and you’re already doing a bang up job getting in there,” I told him.
His eyes changed to something else altogether and he replied, “I don’t understand your language, dove, since, last night, I already got in there.”
My ni**les got hard.
Oh crap.
“Well, in my world,” I hurried to explain, “‘in there’ means…” I faltered then started giggling as I shared, “Well, pretty much what you said it means.”
His eyes lit with amusement and he turned our hands, using his thumb to stroke the skin of the inside of my wrist.
“How about we cease discussing this, I give you the time you desire and we start that time by enjoying our meal?” he suggested quietly.
“Okay,” I answered just as quietly.
His thumb gave my wrist one last stroke (which, by the way, felt unbelievably nice) then he let my hand go.
He picked up his fork.
I did too.
Then I looked at him and called, “Apollo?”
He gave me his eyes, one brow lifted, his warm with inquiry.
Yes.
Beautiful.
“Even though you knew I might lose it,” I started. “Thank you for telling me anyway.” My voice dipped when I shared, “That means a lot, honey.”
His gaze grew intense on me and I knew he wanted more.
But he didn’t ask for more.
He said, “You’re welcome, poppy.”
He didn’t push it and for that I was grateful.
And, just to say, also for that, he got deeper in there.