I know what he stopped himself from saying. Not since he broke up with Emma. He’s been on a few dates since then, but none of them has turned into anything even remotely long term, which means he’s probably not slept with anyone since his break-up.
He runs his hand over my chest. “I really do need to get up.”
“Just so you know, I wasn’t trying to imply that I want you to open for me.”
Fitz sniggers. “Don’t use that analogy again, please.”
“What would you rather I say?”
“Speak plain.”
“Okay…I’m not implying that I want to have sex with you. Not yet anyway,” I add hastily. “I don’t think it’s going to do either of us any good to rush into anything.”
“But you’d wantmeto…” Fitz does a funny flourishing movement with his hand. “You know…” He lets out a frustrated breath. “Receive?”
“Honestly? I hadn’t thought about it.” I press my face against his shoulder. “Forget my blossom analogy. It was a dumb one.”
He runs his fingers through my hair.
I tip my face up so I can see him. “Don’t think too hard about it right now, okay?”
“It’s kinda hard when you’re hard.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “And I’ve lost the ability to put a coherent sentence together that isn’t full of repetition. Bravo, Fitz, bravo.”
“Should I be worried?”
He opens his eyes. “Why?”
“You’re referring to yourself in the third person. I think that’s a sign of madness.”
He sticks his tongue out at me.
“Very mature.”
He does it again, making me laugh.
“Am I supposed todosomething about it?”
“About what?”
“Your hard-on,” he whispers. “Isn’t that what boyfriendsdo?”
I blink. “We’re…boyfriends?”
Fitz looks startled. “I don’t know. Are we?”
“Well, according to my sister, we’re already married.”
“True.”
I kiss him softly. “Will you be my boyfriend, Fitz?”
“Maybe.”
That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.
“I have one condition,” he says.
“What’s that?”
