"What! Ben! No! You haven't even asked me!" I shoot out, scowling.
"Do I have to ask you?" He looks at me like it's not a big deal, like the decision was mutual. "This way I'll know you're safe, especially when I'm gone. So don't be stubborn."
My eyes flare. "I'm stubborn? You're stubborn! And mad! And jealous!" I toss out, hoping it'll land somewhere that stings.
"Hell yeah, I'm jealous," he says, leveling me with a stare. "Have you seen yourself? Heard your laugh? Been there when you look up and smile? You're every guy's dream."
My mouth does a silly pout, but then I shake my head, still bristling. "I barely go anywhere. You're seriously going to track me while I'm chained to my desk all day?"
"Yeah. And don't forget to call me when you get home. I don't want you to go to the apartment alone. Pack your stuff and go upstairs." His tone is sharp, like he already thinks I won't listen.
I roll my eyes. "Richard isn't going to hurt me, and I'll have to speak to him about the divorce anyway."
Ben shakes his head resolutely. "I've seen men like him. They smile right before they snap. You can speak to him when I'm back, next to you and know he can't hurt you. Understood?"
I tip my head back, groaning. "Seriously, you're being dramatic."
"Emma?" His chin dips, and he gives me a look that says he's growing impatient. "I saidno."
When he sees my sulking face, the command softens. "Not because I don't trust you. I don't trust him. If something happened to you, I'd make him wish he was never born. You want me to go to prison?"
I remember the time he camethisclose to losing it with Richard, the way his arm was ready to kill, and I don't want that to happen. So I nod.
"Good." He smiles and glances at his phone, at the little dot. "Looks cute, no? Like a beating heart."
"Not cute," I mumble, glaring again.
He huffs a laugh at my tantrum and takes my phone, pulls up the same app, then holds it out in front of my face.
Ben. His location. His transparency.
"Now you'll also know where I am. What I'm doing. Every second." His eyes meet mine. "Fair?"
This man. This impossible, intoxicating man.
I pause at the glowing dot. It's the kind of access I've never given anyone, not with any of my partners. Although Ben had the run of my phone from day one in New York.
Now, for the first time in our history, he's handing me the same, as proof we've come a long way.
So yeah, not only is it fair, but I think I love it.
"Fine, stalker," I say at last, trying my best to sound blasé.
"Good. Matter closed," he says and winks.
I search those onyx eyes as if I do it long enough, maybe I could decode him.
"Have I ever told you how dangerous your eyes are?" I whisper. "Sometimes I want to dive in, see everything exactly as you do."
He pulls me closer until our foreheads touch. "I want that too. Then you'd know every single way I see you. How perfect you are for me."
I pout and kiss him. Then scrape enough strength to jump up, gather the plates, rinse them, and stack them neatly in the sink. Not because I care, but because if I don't keep moving, I might cancel that damn flight.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I'll miss New York," I admit. "Miss us, like this, without the noise... I'll miss our apartment, too."
Even though it's not our apartment, it feels like it now.
It's an open concept loft on the thirty-first floor. Renovated and sleek, everything black marble and stone, furniture the way I like it—contemporary. They preserved that raw New York vibe with steel beams, raw brick in the huge open living room, and windows so tall they are for giants—for Ben—tinted just enough to feel intimate.
