She too often chose loser boyfriends, just like he’d chosen loser girlfriends, afraid of a
commitment. Actually, he thought she was afraid of being abandoned again, like when
her father had split, so subconsciously chose men she knew would never really suit.
Not that he’d ever admit as much to Dylan or Mom, but he did listen when they
spoke, and paid attention to the lectures on relationships he’d been forced to attend when
younger. A noise at the door called him from the stove.
Answering Hailey’s soft knock, he pulled her into his arms for a deep, breathless
kiss.
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Marie Harte
“Hi,” she gasped. He hugged her, but felt only a lackluster return. The hairs on the
back of his neck stood on end. Shit. He could feel bad news coming, and raced through
his mind for the last stupid thing he’d said.
“Gage, we need to talk.”
We need to talk—the four words every man dreaded. He stubbornly returned to the
kitchen, but remained standing and braced himself for the worst.
“It’s just, well, I’m a little nervous about our time together.”
“What?” Okay, that had definitely confused him.
“Shoot. No, I mean to say, we have fun together, but we always end our time with
sex. And I feel like if we don’t have it, we’ll have a problem.”
She spoke so fast he had a hard time understanding her.
“Hold on. You’re complaining about the sex?” He couldn’t help staring in disbelief.
Last night he’d given her multiple orgasms, which she’d admitted to being a first. And
she’d cried his name as if he’d taken her to heaven. Which he had.
“Not complaining,” she said with a blush. “I’m just worried that if we can’t have sex,
you’ll…”
At her silence, he suddenly understood. And he grew angry. Really, really angry.
“You’re afraid I’ll what? Leave? That the only reason I hang around you is for your
body?”
Shit.All the little gifts, the gestures, doing the fucking dishes, loving her until he felt
