“When it comes to me, I’m asking you to draw on whateverpart of you made that decision. Not all good things make sense or can be quantified.”
Her years with Dylan had taught her the absolute truth of that.
Sebastian closed the space between them and took her face in his hands. “You’ve shown how brave you are. Be brave with me.”
She might be opening herself up to deep heartache if she let this continue. “Ah...”Lord! What should I do? Showme. Tellme.
No clear answer came.
Sebastian’s talk of protecting her dreams had gone to her head, because it was so astonishingly, shockinglywonderfulto have someone on her side, supporting what she valued. “The thing is,” she whispered, “I don’t need a man in my life. I have math.” One of her fingertips disobeyed orders and traced the shape of his lower lip.
“I don’t want you to need me. I want you to choose me.”
“I abhor romance.” She slid her fingers into the thick, silky strands of his hair.
“I know.”
He took her mouth in a kiss—thorough, urgent, filled with pent-up feelings—and her resistance fell like a building leveled by dynamite.
Drugging minutes passed. He lifted his head a few inches. “Am I your boyfriend now?”
“No.”
“Yes I am.” He regarded her challengingly. “I am now, Leah.”
“We’re not together.”
“Yes we are. We’ve had a fight, and I’ve driven across Georgia to make up with you, and now we’re together. Agreed?”
She hesitated. “I’m undecided and in need of convincing.” A smile stole across her mouth.
More kisses filled her kitchen with golden heat and wonder.
“Are we together?” His voice had turned raspy.
She answered with “Undecided” the next four times he asked that question, until she was gasping and he was watching her with eyes that made a million promises.
“Yes,” she finally said. She defied any woman, given the temptation of Sebastian Grant, to answer differently.
Her misgivings remained.
It’s just that, at this awe-laced moment, the joy he offered was greater.
Leah lay wide-awake in bed until well after one that morning. Marveling. Melting. Worrying.
Sebastian had stayed for two hours, which was far longer than was wise, considering the length of his drive home and how early the two of them had to be at work. But a wide strain of rebelliousness ran through Sebastian. He wasn’t one to make the sensible choice if the sensible choice wasn’t what he wanted.
The text she’d asked him to send when he reached home finally arrived.
I’m at my apartment.
Sweet dreams.
Good night, girlfriend.
I wholeheartedly dislike girlfriend as an endearment.
Fine. Good night, princess.
