Page 130 of Illicit

I shrug. “Smallest house in the neighborhood with the biggest yard. Sarah said it’s a no brainer if I’m willing to put in the effort to fix it up.”

Teagan turns in a slow circle, as if there’s anything to look at besides four bland walls and floors that are faded here and there.

I flip my key ring around my finger. “I’m going to gut the place even though I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”

She turns to me and hugs herself across her middle. “You have the internet. And the agents.”

“They never disappoint.”

“I have a feeling you’ll figure it out just fine on your own,” she goes on. “You’re smart like that.”

I smirk. “That’s quite the vote of confidence. I appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Landyn will give her opinions on … stuff.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want Landyn’s opinion. I want yours.”

Her tongue sneaks out to wet the crease of her lips. “I’ve never decorated anything other than my childhood bookshelves. I doubt you want your new home littered with crime fiction and random journals stuffed here and there. Plus, this place is like a mansion compared to what I’m used to living in. You said yourself I’ve become a minimalist out of necessity. I wouldn’t know what to do with all your space.”

“I don’t care what’s in the space as long as you’re in it.”

Her fingertips land on her lips as if she doesn’t know what to say. Or maybe it’s to keep herself from blurting out what we’re both thinking.

She stays silent.

“Teagan, do you like it?”

She states the obvious. “It’s yours.”

“I haven’t closed yet. I’ll lose my earnest money, but I can back out.”

“It doesn’t matter if I like it.”

“It’ll be yours someday,” I say before I amend. “Ours. And that someday will be sooner rather than later.”

“Ours,” she echoes. “That’s a quick turn of events.”

“Quick?” I have to manage myself so the word doesn’t come out angry. “This is the antithesis of quick. I’ve known you for over a decade. Like an idiot, I spent the last two years trying to talk myself out of standing right here. This is the least quick thing I’ve done in my life.”

She’s in the middle of the room, and I’m boxing her in from my spot at the threshold.

She doesn’t break our gaze. “Right back at you. I’m here, and I’m staying in Miami. But now I’m an unemployed graduate and have to start over on my job search. You have a career and you’re buying a house. I need to get my shit together.”

“Do it here.”

She sucks in a breath. “Roc?—”

I shake my head and shut her up. “I want you, Teag. I don’t want to date you. When I come home from work, I want to know that we’ll meet back in the same spot every day, no matter what. Hell, I want to see your shit in every corner of this house.”

“You moved me out of my apartment. You know I don’t have a lot of shit.”

I shake my head. “Even better. That means I can move you in one trip. There will be TVs, though. Plural. That’s nonnegotiable.”

“I won’t have anything to contribute. You know, financially. Or even a TV.”

“I’ve got the TVs covered. I might not be a billionaire or a millionaire or anything-aire. I’m just me, and I only want you. I’ll play catchup with the traditions later. But I told you there’s been no one but you for two years, even if you were only a fantasy. Every house I looked at, I pictured you in it. The fact that you’re here right now is nothing short of a miracle or the result of two years of manifestation.”

She does her best to bite back a smirk. “You manifested me?”

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