"That'll be fun. 'Dr. Mac. I had sex with Xan and now I'm bleeding’." He chuckles.
"As if he doesn't think we've been having sex since we got back together. I'm sure he thinks we've been going at it a lot," I tease, yet in truth, I wonder why wehaven't.
"I know what you're thinking."
I shake my head.
"Yes, I do," he tells me, lying on his side, facing me. I face him and he covers us up. The air conditioning is cold.
"Whatever," I say, tucking my hands between my cheek and the pillow as Xan's doing.
"I've wanted you, Tera. So much I've been hard almost every minute of every single day. I just didn't want to rush you. I didn't want you to think youhaveto give me sex for me to love you. You don't. I'm going to love you no matter what."
He kisses me again, just a press of lips.
"I know it's my fault you don't believe that, but you need to start. There is no one who will ever compare to you," he confesses.
"Xan."
"I mean it."
I nod. "I believe you." How can I not? The sincerity and love in his eyes can't be faked.
"You know, one of the things I love most about you is your heart."
"Yeah?"
I nod. "See, I've noticed something about you. When you feel, you feel it with everything you've got. When you hurt, you break. When you love, you love fiercely. When you're happy, it's infectious."
"You're the same way."
"No. I don't go all-in with everyone. Only those I can trust, and I trust you with me. All of me," I profess.
"Good." He pulls me close and starts kissing me again, only this time it's not so gentle and it doesn't stop.
"Mmm," I moan into his mouth.
"The sounds you make are so fucking hot. I can't wait to get you alone somewhere so you can scream as loud as you want—and Iamgoing to make you scream. Make no mistake about it." He grins that cocky grin.
"Yeah, yeah. We'll see if you can deliver on prom night. Maybe some of the others will hear me while they're partying down the hall. Then your buddies will slap you on the back, pride and all that," I snort.
"You're such a brat," he declares.
"Of course I am. You know this."
He laughs.
I don't want to ask, but I want to know. Why? Why do I do this to myself? I frown at myself.
"What is it?" he asks.
I sigh. "Nothing important."
"No you don't. Spill it, bratty pants."
"I don't want to."
"Too bad. Tell me."
