"Construction starts early." He reached for me, but I crossed my arms. "Ivy?—"
"Right. Construction." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my tone. "I forgot about your very legitimate, very demanding construction business that requires secret phone calls before dawn."
His jaw tightened. "It wasn't a secret phone call. I run the business now. I need to take all the calls."
"Then what was it about?"
"Permits. Import regulations. Boring shit you don't want to hear about at five in the morning."
I studied his face, looking for the lie. But Eric had always been good at keeping his expressions neutral when he wanted to.
"So you're leaving now." It wasn't a question.
His brow furrowed. "What?"
"You got what you wanted. Had your fun. Now you've got work to do, so?—"
"Ivy." He closed the distance between us, hands gentle on my shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere."
I hated how much I wanted to believe that. Hated the hope that flickered to life despite my best efforts to smother it.
I knew better.Hewas the reason I knew better.
"You were on the phone."
"Yes."
"At five in the morning."
"Yes."
"And you expect me to just?—"
He kissed me. Soft, slow, and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
"Come back to bed," he murmured. "Let me hold you."
"Eric—"
"Please." His thumb traced my jaw. "I know you don't trust me. I know I have to earn that back. But right now, can we just...can we go back to bed? Let me hold you for a few more hours before the world wakes up?"
The fight drained out of me. I was so tired. Tired of being angry, tired of protecting myself, tired of pretending I didn't want exactly what he was offering.
"Okay."
He led me back to the bedroom, and I let him pull me close under the covers. His body curved around mine, solid and warm, one arm draped across my waist.
"I'm here," he whispered against my neck. "I'm right here."
I laced my fingers through his, holding on tighter than I should.
My mind was a war zone. Hope battling fear, want clashing with self-preservation. Every instinct screamed at me to pull away, to protect myself before he had the chance to leave again.
But I was never good at making the right decisions for myself. Quite the opposite, in fact.
His heartbeat was steady against my back, and his breath was warm on my skin, so maybe, just maybe...
I fell asleep to the rhythm of his breathing, still fighting myself.
