Page 38 of Careless Whisper

I was never invited to his family thing, so I never invited him to mine. It was apparent he wanted to keep the relationship casual, and I was a fool in love, so I let him treat me like a dirty secret for far too long. In the beginning, it made sense, but after a year together? That was a clear message.

“You didn’t know where I lived because you never wanted to come over, Elias,” I reminded him.

He tucked his hands in his pockets as he walked alongside me. “I know.”

“Is there a point to this reminiscing?” I didn’t like talking about the past. I didn’t likethatElias, the one who’d thrown me aside—and remembering all that made it harder to likethisElias, the one who was being friendly.

“I was just making an observation.”

We fell silent after that, and I thought he’d just walk away, but he didn’t. He stayed.

“This is me.” I waved at the beautifully restored historic apartment building I live in.

Tucked away on a leafy residential street, it had original hardwood floors and crown molding. Depending on the time of day, it was a fifteen- to forty-five-minute drive from the hospital, but I didn’t mind. I adored its cozy vibe and had fallen in love with it the minute I’d stepped in.

He looked the building up and down. “You live here?”

“Yep.”

Should I invite him in? Or maybe not. It was weird to have him walk me all the way here and…

He glanced at the stone façade, the doorman out front, the well-groomed hedges. It was discreet, but it screamed money if you knew what to look for.

“This is very nice, Reggie.”

Now, I was uncomfortable. “Very.”

“I didn’t expect this.”

I nodded, knowing what he was thinking. How could I afford to live here on a nurse’s salary?

“I got a great deal,” I fibbed.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I know the owner,” I added breezily. That wasn’t a lie. Iknewthe owner…me. It was a family property, and my grandparents had given it to me when I moved to Seattle.

His eyes flicked to mine. “You know the owner?”

“Hmm,” I replied vaguely. “Do you want to come up for a drink?” I wanted to take it back immediately. If the building was giving him heart palpitations, seeing the original art in the apartment would blow his mind. But my mother used to own a gallery—so I had art.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Rejection smacked me in my face. I was such an idiot. Just because he was being nice to me, I thought?—

“Not because I don’t want to,” he added quickly.

I waited, eyes downcast.

He lifted my chin with a finger. “I want you, Gigi. You know that.”

I didn’t know that. I didn’t know anything, I thought as I looked into his familiar eyes and wanted to just dive into the blue and stay there.

“I don’t want the next time we have sex to leave you second-guessing yourself.” His voice was low, sincere. He was talking about how I reacted to our little fuck session in the on-call room after the wholegun going offin the OR mess. “I don’t want it to feel like a mistake. I want it to feel like a beginning.”

My throat tightened. Say what? A beginning? How was that possible? Especially since he thought I was some bunny boiler type!

I didn’t say anything, just stood there like a moron.

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