“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.”
“You should,” she murmured against his chest. “This whole thing was a mess, and it was pretty much all my fault.”
Ross dropped his mouth to her ear. “I think you’re giving yourself way too much credit. Everyone knows you’re brilliant and capable, but you’re not that capable. You’re not the reason I got into trouble when I was a kid. You didn’t cause me to take the movie. You don’t have any control over your dad. I can take responsibility for my actions. You don’t need to saddle yourself with a bunch of stuff you didn’t have any control over.”
She gave a short sniff. “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“It happens. Trust me, I’ve been a disappointment many times in my life.” He pulled away, taking her face between his hands. Her eyes were wide and shiny. Her dark lashes were clinging together in spikes across pink cheeks. Her glasses were still in her hand, and he wasn’t used to seeing her without them. It didn’t matter, glasses or no glasses, she was beautiful either way. And she was here, listening to him, choosing him.
He traced his thumb along her brow, outlining the edge of her temple before sliding its way across her cheekbone. She closed her eyes at this, light breaths exhaling from her lungs. He was tempted to capture each breath, to allow himself to bask in her warmth.
Just once.
“You should go home,” he said.
Her eyes held his. “I don’t want to.”
Don’t push. Pull.These were the last things that went through his mind.
Ross covered her mouth with his own, drawing a luscious kiss from her. Mia’s arms slid around his neck, locking them together. Lips pressed. Tongues met. The air between them became charged with desperate desire. These were not the soft, tame kisses of springtime but rather the hungry wants and needs after a long, barren winter. Measure for measure, she returned his kisses as volcanic as Ross gave them. His mind teetered on the edge of a cliff, and he was powerless to do anything about it.
Requiring extra support, he pressed her against the wall. His lips claimed her mouth again and again until the surrounding atmosphere was filled with nothing but hot, panting breaths. Nothing about this felt enough. His body wanted more skin, more heat, more of her. As Mia’s hands drifted down his chest, electricity crackled and spread inside him. There was a tug on his waistband as Mia worked to undo the button of his pants.
Ross managed to tear himself from her lips. “Mia,” he said, using his hands to pacify her busy ones.
“Ross, please,” was her breathless response. “I’m on birth control if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He’d been impulsive before and look where that got him. Ross didn’t want to be impulsive with Mia. She had come to mean a lot to him. With an impressive amount of restraint, he took a step back. “We’re not going to do this tonight. I think we can both agree it’s been a strange evening with a lot of emotions. It’s probably not a good idea to add something else to the mix.”
She actually released a small whine, and he smiled while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you working in the morning?”
“Yeah,” she responded.
“Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow—”
“Okay.”
“Let me finish. Go home. I’ll stop by the coffee shop, and you can tell me yes or no to having dinner here, a designated dad-free zone. Whatever you decide is fine, but I want you to really think this over. I don’t want this to be something impulsive you do because you’re mad at your father.”
Mia studied him. “How do I know you also aren’t motivated by anger toward him?”
Ross brushed his lips across her temple. “Trust me. If I’m doing anything to you, the last person I want to be thinking about is the judge.”
“How about we make a deal and just keep him out of this altogether.”
“Deal. But I still want you to take time to think about it.”
Mia groaned. “Fine.”
Ross was tired of fighting this attraction. He could finally admit to himself he wanted her. But, above all, he wantedherto be sure.
Chapter Twenty-Three
If there wasone thing Mia was good at it was being an overthinker. It may have started when her sixth-grade teacher, Ms. Reid, commented on one of her essays withPush yourself harder, Mia. At the time, Mia thought she had been pushing herself. But perhaps she hadn’t. How was she supposed to know which effort was simplyhardor she reached past it and achieved the level ofharder? It made her look at everything with extra scrutiny because maybe her original perception was wrong.
When she departed Ross’s place, her mind was set. She wanted to be with him the following evening. During the whole drive home, one word played in her head:Yes. And why not? They were aware of each other’s situation, and as long as they stayed upfront about everything, it wasn’t a big deal. But, as Ross seemed to predict, time had a funny way of making one less sure, and the overthinker took over.
On the one hand, it was just dinner. It’s not like Ross was asking her to move in. Dinner could mean a lot of things. Or it could mean nothing. Besides, dinner tended to be an all-consuming endeavor. Not many people were capable enough to shovel food into their mouths, and participate in an additional activity at the same time. Eating a meal was a completely normal everyday event, and she just happened to be doing it at Ross’s home. Thinking it meant something more might be considered presumptuous.
