Page 120 of Nothing to Fear

“Of course I care,” he said, landing his fists on the counter, looming over her. “You know how I feel about you, baby. This is forever and I’m going to make it happen, whatever it takes.”

“How can I believe that when you just flagrantly disregard my—your mother has my phone number, by the way. Partners consult each other. If something happened or something changed, Alice could’ve got in touch with me. Did that even occur to you? Probably not, ‘cause I’d bet you’re hiding from her too. She would never let you—do you know how scared she was? We sat there together, holding your hand—”

“I know, baby.”

“Your family—your brothers might think this is some joke, that it’s okay to josh around like you’re some badass out there picking fights with—”

“I get it,” he murmured, bending his knees to come lower. “Okay? I get it. I’m sorry.”

“I trusted you. How can I ever do that again?”

“Because whatever you want right now, it’ll happen. You’re the boss, okay? Strike one, I get it, I won’t fuck up again.”

She shook her head as it dipped. “You already have a mother, an incredible one.”

“You’re not my mother; you’re my partner.”

“We’re not equals.”

Curling his finger under her chin, he brought it up. “No, but I’ll try my damndest to reach your league. Give a guy a chance.”

Except she had given him a chance… hadn’t she?

“You’re mocking me.”

“God, baby, don’t ask me to lose you when I barely got a taste.”

Scared. That’s what he’d said. What was wrong with that? Nothing, except, that’s what it was: fear.

“What if you hadn’t woken up?” she asked. “If that guy hit you just a little harder… And if I’d come to your bed tonight and you were gone…”

“You’re right. You’re right, I didn’t think about it like that. Truly, I’m sorry.”

This time it was his gaze that drifted. The guy had been through so much and, if anything, the fear only made it more palpable. He had her heart. Her love. She’d fought it, but having known the world with him, she couldn’t bear to think of it without him.

Good sense didn’t care about heartstrings and Hollywood endings.

Taking his hand from the counter, she linked their fingers to lead him up the stairs to the loft bedroom. Putting his back to the bed, she let go.

“Baby—”

She touched his lips to quiet him. “This is your do over. Your one do over.”

Gathering up his pullover hoodie, she needed his help to remove it because he was so much taller, same with his tee-shirt. Laying her hand over the center of his chest, she felt his heartbeat against it before leaning in and kissing his sternum.

“Belongs to you.”

“What belongs to me?” she asked, caressing his torso with her cheek.

“Me. All of me. Everything.”

“If that’s true…” She reversed a few inches and pushed his hips downward until he sat on the end of the bed. She crouched in front of him. The wonder in his eyes might be hopeful, but she wasn’t that over their spat yet. Instead, she slipped off his sneakers. “You’ll stay in this bed with me until I release you.”

“I can handle that.” He planted his hands on the bed behind him. “It’s the ‘with you’ part that’s the clincher.”

“You will do as you’re told?”

“I will do as told.”

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