Page 79 of Mortgage of Convenience

SEBASTIAN

“I’ve been thinking.”

I’m putting the last of the dishes away, and Bee is sitting on her throne, adding more to the wall. Making good progress.

Seeing she has my full attention, she sets the pen down. “If the book is turned down, I’ll have to pick up another ghostwriting gig pretty quickly, and the easiest way to do that is to go wherever the subject is. The good news is, any advance I get will take care of my half of the mortgage while you look for a roommate. As long as Aiden is okay with storing my stuff for a little while.”

“You’re leaving?”

“No,” she rushes. “I mean, maybe. I can’t get my hopes up about the book, and I want to be prepared in case… well. I know some writers interview their subjects over the phone or video call, but it’s not really the same as speaking in person. You can edit virtually, but the initial work is always better when I’m there.”

Fuck. “Of course. You want to be where the work is.”

“You have to know, with the house, I’d never?—”

“We’ll cross that bridge later.” Never, hopefully.

It’s a reminder that Bee has a life she’s planning to return to. For her, there is an after. The thought of her with anyone else is painful, and then I want to punch myself in the face for thinking I have any claim on her.

I don’t want her seeing anyone else. I don’t want there to be anyone else after me. There won’t be for me.

“And we won’t even need to, because you’re going to crush this.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be the one getting crushed.”

“Hey, no back talk in my kitchen.”

“I thought this was our kitchen.”

“Now you’re getting it.” I wink and get the desired result when she laughs.

“And as your appointed confidence sponsor, I want to inform you that your next job is to stop the negativity. Only positive comments from here on out.”

“Is that an order?”

I plant both hands on the counter on either side of her, soaking in the heat of her a siren’s call. When I brush my thumbs along her bare thighs, she shivers. “If you need it to be.”

She’s silent, the only sound our breaths filling the small space between us. There’s lust in her gaze, pupils blown wide, and then she’s off the counter, slipping her hand in mine.

“Come with me.”

The boards in the hallway creak as she leads me to my room. I don’t ask what she’s planning. I don’t say anything as she toes off her shoes before we’ve crossedthe threshold, even though I’ll be tripping over them later.

Despite my room being tidier, it’s usually Bee’s that we end up in. I’d like to wake up with her in my bed more often—forever, honestly—so I’ll have to be forgiven for being hopeful now.

I let her push me onto the bed, but she stops me when I reach for her, wordlessly stripping my shirt off before taking a step back. She hasn’t stopped biting her lip since we entered, and now she’s playing with the hem of her shorts.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. Your dance,” she says. “I want to do that for you.”

Yes.Running my hands along my thighs, I take a deep breath. Anything and everything she could ever want, I will give her.

“Where do you want me?” I ask.

A little tension leaves her shoulders, and her small, nervous smile almost kills me.

“Up against the headboard.”

What did I say a few weeks back? I was wrong.Thisis how I die.

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