Upstairs, Savannah opens the door to a studio apartment. The walls are red brick, the room small. Rather than a couch, there’s a bed pushed up against the wall, its purple comforter a rumpled mess. To the left is a wall of kitchen cabinets and a black fridge, along with a small black two-person table. On the right, beside the doorway, is a television set up to be viewed from the bed. All in all, the entire space is probably four hundred square feet.
“It’s not much, I know,” she says, like she’s taking in the room from my perspective.
The embarrassment in her tone is like a knife to the gut. I rush to set the bags on the table, then turn back to her and cup her upper arms, ducking so we’re eye to eye. “You’ve got great neighbors and a warm bed. Seems like it’s exactly what you need.”
She nods, her shoulders relaxing a bit. She’s in a pair of oversized black sweats rolled at the waist and a soft-looking black ribbed long-sleeved shirt. Her red hair is piled high on her head, and there’s very little, if any, makeup on her face. Maybe the remnants of the day’s mascara.
As I catalog her, it hits me. She never planned on coming to dinner. Does that mean that when she texted, she was trying to cancel? Did I misread the signals?
Shit.
“How are you feeling?” I hedge.
She shrugs, eyes darting to one side. “Fine.”
“I’ve got a heating pad for your cramps. If you get them, that is?—”
“I’m okay for now, but thank you.” She nibbles on her lip, eyeing the bags on her table. “And thank you for bringing all of this. You seriously didn’t have to.”
“If you want me to leave, it’s okay.”
It’s the last thing I want to do, but she’s been acting weird since she sent that text, and I can take a hint. I might not like it, but I won’t force her to spend time with me.
She grasps my hand and squeezes, her green eyes shining as she looks up at me. “No. Please, stay.”
“Are you sure?” Even as I ask the question, I step closer.
She nods, then gives another shoulder shrug. “I’m a bit thrown having you here, but that’s a me issue, not you.”
My heart sinks a little. “Why is that?”
She nods toward her bed. “Can we sit? I know it’s weird that my bed is my couch, but I don’t want to sit in a stiff chair right now,” she says, eyeing the little kitchen set against the other wall.
I smile. Damn, her awkwardness is adorable.
I’ve had my tongue in her ass. I’ve smacked her pussy and I’ve been buried to the hilt inside her when she comes. She was a goddess in every one of those moments, but right now, standing before me, I swear I’m seeing the real, unfiltered version. And I fucking love it.
So I follow her to her bed, and when she settles beside me, I pull her onto my lap. “Baby girl, you’re killing me,” I murmur into her neck. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
She pulls back and presses her palm to my cheek, her eyes boring into mine. “I don’t have people here. I don’t show them this side of me.”
Unease swirls in my gut. “But why?”
“You’ve seen the Warrens’ house. And all the Langfields’ homes too, I’m sure. And Sutton Jones, another one of my closest friends—her mom is Elizabeth Sweet,” she says, her shoulders sagging. “Every one of my friends has a perfect family and their own beautiful apartment. And let’s not even talk about your place. I’m sure the women you date?—”
“I don’t date,” I say gruffly.
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. The women you fuck.”
That unease curls into a ball in the pit of my stomach. “I can’t change who I was before I met you.”
She shakes her head, huffing out an annoyed breath. “I’m notsaying I want you to. I’m just saying that I’m not like them. Any of them.”
Despite my concern, I can’t help but smirk. “That’s true.”
She frowns, those beautiful green irises dulling a little.
“You’re not like any other woman I’ve ever met.” I lace my fingers with hers and kiss her knuckles. “So yeah, I’ve fucked a lot of women in my life, and sure, maybe they came from money, or maybe they hid behind a façade. Honestly I don’t ask a woman to show me her bank balance before we fool around. I couldn’t give a fuck how much money you have. I’m not judging you. In fact, I’m crazy as fuck about you. So crazy that, yeah, when I pulled up in front of your building, I thoughtshe deserves a better home. Because I want you in mine.”
