Even though he takes everything and loads it into my car,he remains silent the entire trip home.Home. I suppose it is now…
His lumbering body almost fills the entire cabin of the small space, but his sulking attitude is like a third passenger between us.
“I can pay you back,” he says, his low voice filled with shame.
“What?”
“I can pay?—”
“I mean, I heard you, but… Uh…” I tap my ring finger on the steering wheel as I turn into the parking lot. “We’remarried.”
“What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath and shut off the engine. Turning to him, I grab one of his hands in both of mine. “I mean, it’sourmoney now. So you’re not paying meback. It’s oursharedmoney.”
Besides, it’s coming from my parents anyway, but I figure it’s probably best not to bring that up at this very moment.
“I can ask the president for an account just for this.”
“I don’t want anything from those people,” I snap.
He nods once. “Understood.” With a shift in his mood, he gives me a shy smile. “Let’s go play house, wife.”
I giggle. “Still feelsbizarre.”
While I wash the bedding, Apollo sets to work on the bathroom stuff. But he must have gotten it done quickly because by the time I go into the living room, he’s made it homey with the lamps on low, pillows fluffed, and blankets spread out. Football is on the big screen.
In the dining room alcove, a desk lamp shines brightly.
“So, I don’t know if this is what you…” He waves his hand that way, and I follow him. “Figured you could study in silence here instead of the library.”
Sure enough, he’s got my books piled up on the large table. The plush chair has thick padding on it now, along with a knitted throw over the back. There’s a wooden bookcase in the corner with a mug heater sitting on top. He even dragged a plump ottoman beneath the table.
“You did this for me?” I ask, fingertips brushing over the smooth surfaces.
“Yeah. If it works?—”
When I turn to him and see the desperation in his eyes, the way he’s waiting for my approval, something in me finally loosens its grip. I toss my arms around his neck and whisper, “It’s perfect.”
Before he can kill me with that stunning smile, my mouth is on his. Bliss takes over my body as his tongue grazes my lower lip, gently prodding them apart. He slides it inside, and before I know it, his broad hands are caressing my ass, lifting me off the ground.
I grip his neck tighter, legs wrapping around his waist.
He sets me down on the sofa before breaking our kiss. But then he pecks the end of my nose, his eyes heavy with lust.
“We can keep going. Keep…”
He’s asking me again. As forceful as he was in the library, practically demanding access to my body, now? He’s relaxed. And sweet. Giving me a choice just like that first night at The Underpass.
“Let me get ready for bed… Then we’ll watch some football.”
And we try. We do. I want to know more about him andhis love of the sport. Want to have anormalnight as a couple. One who just got married and moved into their own apartment.
But all I can do is watch him. His biceps flexing every time he yells at the refs. Neck muscles straining. His dark brown eyes sneak a peek to the side beneath his long lashes, finding my exposed thigh. My pajamas feel too tiny. And too much all at once.
Everywhere his gaze touches sends a tingly spark across my skin.
So I can’t help but get on him.
