I’ve made myself numb.
Since we left the room half an hour ago, pretending like everything’s normal, coming down to the restaurant for breakfast and coffee, I’ve been biting back what I want to say. I’ve been tamping down on a ridiculous urge to ask him to stay. A while longer. Just a little while longer.
And you know why I don’t?
Because I know it won’t be enough.
I don’t want him to stay another week. Or another month. I don’t want there to be a time limit on this.
It scares the crap out of me to think I want anything from Jagger because we had a deal, and it was so simple. So very simple! Sex: easy, walk-away-when-we’re-done sex.
I sip my coffee again, my heart splintering.
I feel like I’ve wasted so much of our time together. My insistence that we stick to work during the day seems juvenile now, and so limiting. Because there’s so much more I want to know about Jagger! So much I held back from asking because I told myself questions didn’t belong in a temporary relationship.
I lift my eyes to his; he’s watching me.
My heart feels like it’s got a stitch, right in the middle.
I don’t want you to go yet.
The words rush through my brain, my mouth, but I don’t utter them and I think, as the world descends further, faster, that I know why. Gareth walked away from me like I meant nothing to him—like our two years together meant nothing.
And Jagger’s going to do the same. It’s only been a few nights, but this—what we share—is so different to anything I’ve ever known. This kind of connection is powerful and seducing, completely drugging.
But if he doesn’t feel it too, then it’s just the same as what happened with Gareth. He’s just another guy I want more from than he’s prepared to give. He’s just another guy I care for more than he cares for me.
My stomach rolls.
‘You okay?’
I’m not. I don’t just want more from Jagger than he’s willing to give—I want all of Jagger.
I’ve fallen in love with him. I have no idea how or when, nor how damned stupid I could be, but, somewhere between the sex and the Greek god tattoos and the sex and opening my soul to his inspection, I’ve fallen in love with the guy I thought I agreed just to have casual sex with.
And I’m almost positive he doesn’t love me back.
It’s Gareth all over again, but so much wors
e.
I swallow, the sting of tears on my eyelids coming at the worst possible time. No way will I give in to them! I dip my head forward, blinking furiously, then force a smile to my face.
My heart cracks.
His eyes drop to my mouth and then he looks away, a muscle jerking in the base of his jaw, his expression tight.
And something like hope bursts through me. Is it possible he feels the same way I do? That this, us, our time together, has come to mean more than he thought it would?
Is it possible he feels the same way for me?
And now the world is wildly off its axis, and there’s a humming in my ears that demands attention.
He shifts his head, angling it back to me, and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.
‘I’ll have my lawyer be in touch with an offer by the end of the week. Will that work for you?’
The world stops spinning. His words come to me as if from a long way away. I frown instinctively, taking a minute to catch up.