“Then stop treating me like one.” Silence hums. “I won’t beg,” I add quietly. “And I won’t wait around for you to decide I’m worth the risk.”
He takes a slow breath. “You are worth the risk.”
“Then act like it.” His eyes burn into mine.
“I’ve buried one woman,” he says softly. “I won’t survive losing another.”
The confession knocks the anger out of me.
“That’s not what this is,” I say.
“You don’t know that.”
“Neither do you.”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“You think this is easy for me?” he asks. “You think I don’t feel it every time you laugh with Lacee? Every time you lean across this counter? Every time you look at me like you’re not afraid of me?”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
“Why?”
“Because when I want something,” he says quietly, “I don’t do it halfway.”
My pulse pounds.
“Then don’t.”
The tension thickens again. He steps forward once more. Not hesitant this time.
Deliberate.
His hand slides to my cheek.
“You don’t deserve half of me,” he says.
“Then give me all of you.”
The challenge hangs there.
He leans down, resting his forehead against mine.
“You’re asking me to choose,” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
His breathing roughens again. His lips brush mine again, softer this time.
Reverent.
Not consuming.
