Chapter Twenty-One
After our spectacularwake-up call, Landen and I were in my kitchen, drinking coffee. He had pulled a pair of workout shorts out of his carry-on and slipped them on without underwear. Even after my incredible orgasm, the knowledge that all he wore were those silky shorts was distracting as hell.
“I wasn’t joking,” he said suddenly.
Confused by the random statement, I sipped my coffee and stared at him over the rim.
“About spending every night with you.”
I smirked at him and lowered the mug. “I’m not completely averse to the idea,” I stated, my tone teasing.
Landen’s expression wasn’t amused as he replied, “I mean it, Chelsea.”
Feeling as though I’d just jumped into a pool without knowing how deep it was, I set my coffee down. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say, Landen,” I stated, lifting a foot so my heel was on the seat. I rested my chin on my knee and studied him.
He met my gaze for a protracted moment and looked a bit frustrated before he finally responded. “I think you should move in with me.”
Though my ears heard his words, my brain didn’t comprehend them. I blinked at him several times before I asked, “I’m sorry?”
He sighed and placed his mug on the counter next to mine. He was standing in the kitchen, on the opposite side of the bar, while I sat on one of the stools at the end. “I’m fucking this up,” he muttered, mostly to himself I thought. His eyes returned to mine, intense and probing. “I know this is only the third night we’ve spent together but I like it. I like going to bed with you, sleeping with you, and waking up with you. I like the idea of coming home after work and knowing that you’ll be there. And I want that. Every day.”
His words were…amazing. And closely mirrored my own thoughts over the past week.
But they were also scary because this was fast. Really fast.Way too fast. We hadn’t even been dating a month yet. We hadn’t had our first fight. Or gone through our first flu season. The cold and flu season was a true test of a relationship. Illness was never pretty and most of the men I’d dated were complete babies when they were sick. Though I did sometimes wonder if the cold virus trembled in fear when it got anywhere near Landen Weber.
“Landen,” I began. Unsure of what to say next, I paused and bit my lip. Six months from now, I would have been ecstatic to have this conversation, but right now it felt too soon for such a huge step. I took a deep breath and forced myself to say exactly what I was thinking. “Look, I l-love that you feel that way about me and I love spending time with you.” Inwardly, I winced when I tripped over the “L word” but I persevered. “But I don’t think I’m ready to move in with you. We haven’t been dating for long and I’d like to learn more about you before we take that step.”
He stared at me, his expression unreadable. “What do you want to know? Bad habits? Ex-girlfriends and the reasons they gave me for our break-ups? Are you afraid I kill puppies in my spare time? What?”
His tone was terse, as though he were reaching for patience and having difficulty finding it. And I didn’t like the snarky way he spoke to me, but I took ahold of my own patience with an iron grip. Landen liked to have his way. I knew this about him already because of how often I had to deal with it when he came to Chris’ office. The fact that I said no when he asked me to move in was likely irritating the shit out of him. I didn’t want this to turn into a fight because it wasn’t something we should fight about.
“That’s not what I mean,” I stated. “What I need to know about you…it comes with time. With proximity. The more time we spend together, the more I’ll learn about the kind of person you are.”
“You’ve seen me at least once a week for a year, Chelsea,” he responded. “I think you should have an idea about what kind of person I am by now.”
His sarcasm made my grip on my temper slip somewhat. I frowned at him. “That’s work. This is your personal life and my personal life. I don’t know about you, but I do try to behave in a professional manner when I’m at work. If you left coffee cups and other things lying around at the office, I would pick it up because it’s my job. If you did it in a home we shared and expected me to clean up after you, I’d tell you to fuck off. There’s a difference.” I shook my head. “But this is completely off topic. I know we’re going to butt heads, Landen, and that’s okay. It’s part of a relationship. I’m just telling you that I need more time before I make a decision like this.”
He studied me for a long moment. So long that a cold rivulet of unease slid down my spine. His expression was considering…almost scheming. “You said you wanted to be chased. But I’m beginning to think you don’t want to be caught.”
Those wordshurt. They had the same power as a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of my lungs. When it returned with a sharpwhoosh, I lost the tenuous hold I had on my anger and hurt. I let him have it all.
“That was a low blow!” I yelled, jumping to my feet and slashing my arm sideways. “For fuck’s sake, Landen, we just had sex for the first time a week ago. And until you kissed me, I had no clue that you felt anything other than annoyance or disdain toward me. You have to cut me some fucking slack!”
I hated losing my temper. I hated yelling. My mom was a yeller and tended to fly off the handle over small things when I was growing up. She was loving and sweet most of the time, but she had a short temper. She would verbally explode all over the place one minute then be perfectly fine the next. And she never apologized for the things she said when she was angry either. It took many years for me to control that impulse when arguing, but I’d managed it.
But now I was pissed. And in pain.
Before Landen could respond, I continued yelling, “I’m falling in love with you but that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to move in tomorrow! Not everyone thinks or feels the way you want them to, when you want them to.”
I ran out of steam then and dragged my hands through my tangled curls as I turned my back to him. I gulped in air as though I’d just run a mile and focused on calming my racing heart. God, I hated it when I lost control over my emotions. I might be assertive, independent, even a little crazy and loud, but I always tried to control my anger and frustration because I knew it was counterproductive to let them loose via words.
I felt Landen’s heat at my back and lifted my shoulders defensively as I stepped away without looking at him. “Just…give me a minute to calm down, okay?” I said tiredly, lifting a hand toward him. “I just need a minute and then we’ll talk.”
He didn’t back off but he did speak. “I’m sorry, Chelsea.”
My frustration faded somewhat with his words and I took one last deep breath and let it out. I still wasn’t happy about the way he’d behaved, but he sounded sincere. Holding a grudge after someone apologized was also counterproductive. Especially when he clearly meant it. It was something I struggled with in past relationships. I didn’t like that aspect of my character and I worked hard to suppress that tendency.
I turned toward him. “I’m sorry I yelled. I hate losing my temper like that.”
