And now…
“Sonny,” I said, gulping.
Even his name seemed to just hesitate in my throat, like I could say the “Son” but not the “ny” without forcing it out. Why was I this way? Why was it so difficult to just accept something good had come my way and to just let it be?
“I need some time to think about it, I—”
“Leigh.”
He sounded so composed. I had politely told him no—let’s be honest, that’s what he thought I’d done—and yet sounded as even-keeled as when he’d served me breakfast. It was a painful reminder once more that someone great was offering themselves for more than sex to me, and my history had primed me to say no.
“I obviously cannot and will not try to force a certain answer for you, but I do not have time. The club does not have time.”
He paused to let the words settle in.
“If you don’t want to give an answer now, so be it, but beware. If you don’t give an answer before you walk out of my place, then the earliest you’ll see me around is Monday. The earliest.”
I almost didn’t want to ask the question I had. But Sonny seemed to read my mind.
“And if you’re wondering what’s the latest, the answer is never. Because I wasn’t kidding when I said things were going to get ugly, Leigh. And they could be so ugly…”
That he may not be around by Monday.
At least now I had a good excuse for not asking more questions.
“I’ll respond before Monday.”
Sonny growled. I thought I heard him start to say something that began with “fucking” but the rest of us died on his lips or never reached my ears. I felt terrible, but to lie and pretend like I wanted to marry him on the spot seemed worse.
Right?
An awkward silence filled the space between us. I had to admit, in my adult lifetime, I’d never anticipated that the man who would so honestly and earnestly confess his feelings to me would be this guy. The man who could fight, kill, take what he wanted, say what he wanted, and live how he wanted. The man who answered to no society, to no “higher authority.”
Unfortunately, I could all too easily admit that the fear of commitment would consume me. I’d seen it when I joked about Hailey staying out with me. I’d felt it when I saw Melissa go back to a relationship I worried she shouldn’t. And now, painfully, I saw it with myself.
“I should go,” I mumbled.
Sonny didn’t argue the point. I stood up from the table, took my dishes to the sink, placed them in gently, and hurried back upstairs to make sure I had everything. A significant part of me kept turning around, wishing and practically begging Sonny to follow me and force the issue. Maybe some great sex would change my mind. Heaven knew it certainly played a role the last two times.
But when I had everything and walked downstairs, Sonny didn’t take me. He had moved, but he had only moved to the bottom of the stairs from the kitchen table. He had his arms folded and his eyes looking at me, but there was no sexual fire in them; merely acceptance and grimness that suggested he believed my answer was no.
And the terrible part was, it wasn’t. I wanted to will myself to say yes. But it was probably pretty damn telling that I had to force myself to try to say yes to something like this.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said. “It’s…”
He didn’t finish. I nodded, muttered thanks, and walked out. He placed a hand on the small of my back, and oh…oh, the chills that sent. How quickly I could just turn around, passionately kiss him, and be right back where we were last night, both physically and in headspace. How easily we could just revert back to being like animals, going at each other and not thinking about the future.
But Sonny didn’t move his hand down to my ass. He didn’t move it around my hips and to my stomach. He only moved it…off.
When we got to the car, I placed my purse in the passenger’s seat, leaning forward. It gave Sonny a chance…one he did not take. I shut the door and turned around.
And now, finally, we were just an arm’s length away from each other. No kitchen table separated us. No destination we had to go to compelled us. No urgency of time hurried us.
“I—”
Sonny grabbed me by the hips, pulled me in, and planted a passionate, erotic kiss on my lips. It was different than the hot, sexy makeout we’d had last night; it was more sensual, slower, almost like the kiss itself was telling me something, not like just a part of sex.
“Give me an answer, Leigh,” he said in a moment in between kisses. “I know what you want. I know you want me. Give me an answer.”
