“Hold up,” he interrupted, and I turned to look at him. “Grant asked you out? When?” His jaw ticked with aggravation like he was mad that I’d withheld the information from him.
“Yes…” I trailed off, my brow creasing. “He asked me Monday afternoon when he stopped in to go over some paperwork with my dad.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.” I shrugged, watching him.
“What did you say?” he asked, moving across the garage with sure strides, the heat in his gaze enough to warp metal.
“I turned him down,” I replied, my heart rate increasing with every step he took. He stopped in front of me, cupping my chin and guiding it up.
His blue eyes darkened with desire, and he brushed his thumb across my lips. “Why did you turn him down?”
Alaric
My question hung between us, and the only answer she gave was the sharp intake of breath. Without thinking, I leaned forward, capturing her soft mouth in a kiss, and my free hand drifted to her waist. When I pulled away, her eyes shone with confliction—heat warring with indecision.
“None of this feels very casual, Alaric,” she finally said, avoiding my gaze.
“No, it doesn’t,” I said softly, moving even closer to her. I cupped her chin, tilting it up so she had no choice but to look at me.
“It kind of terrifies me,” she added, her eyes tight with concern.
“Me too,” I confessed.
“What now?” she asked, her frown deepening.
Although Cheryl had waved the first white flag, that truce might vanish if she took an issue to me seeing Gwen. It could be another easy excuse for her to alienate me further.
But I’d let Cheryl control the narrative for far too long. I’d allowed her to keep me in chains, and I did it out of fear.
Fear that didn’t seem to exist around Gwen.
I took a breath.
“I don’t really know,” I replied a moment later, speaking honestly.
“Right,” she breathed, nodding once like it was the answer she’d expected, but it still pained her. She took a breath, her eyes fixed on mine. “I get it. When we started this…arrangement, it was with the understanding that things would remain casual.”
Something shuttered behind her gaze like she was trying to put up walls between us. I wouldn’t let her erect them; I pulled her against me, bringing my lips close to hers. Her lids fluttered shut, and she exhaled. I breathed her scent before continuing. “I want this, Gwen.”
Her eyes snapped open, and she smiled but with a wisp of sadness. “And what, exactly, is this?”
“It’s not casual, that’s for damn sure,” I responded, almost growling. The knowledge that another man had asked her out—that another man had joined her for dinner with her parents—spurred me into facing the truth; I didn’t want to let her go, and I didn’t want to have to.
“You sound frustrated,” she remarked, looking away, shielding herself.
“I am,” I admitted, swallowing. “I wasn’t counting on…you. On this turning into…this,” I gestured between us, meaning everything from the connection we had, to the amazing sex, to the possessive streak that slashed out every time I thought of her with someone else.
I wanted her for myself, and I was afraid to lose her.
Gwen deserved a relationship or at least the promise of a future, and if I didn’t give that to her, it wouldn’t be long before some other guy—like Grant—did. The knowledge sat heavily in my stomach. I couldn’t let that happen.
“I wasn’t either,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on mine.
“I guess life doesn’t give a shit about plans.” I chuckled lowly.
“I don’t want to get hurt again,” she added, pulling away from my embrace and dropping her gaze. She put her hand up as if warding me off. “I don’t handle getting cheated on very well, and my trust is shot to shit.”
