Kneeling in front of me, he tucked his hands behind my lower back and pulled me toward him until my knees were pressing into his bare chest.

He shook his head. “I’m pissed at you for this, and I love you for this. But you have to know that there’s nothing I want more than you.”

“What if you regret it?”

He paled, his face falling. “You said you weren’t bailing. You’re fucking bailing on me. You just want me to be the one to do it.”

“You need to think about this … I mean, really think about it.”

“Why are you really doing this, Falyn? How about you really think about that? It’s getting serious, and alarms are going off. Stop, and think about this for two fucking seconds.”

“We just need a break. If you still feel the same way later …”

“Later? When the fuck is later?”

“Taylor,” I said, watching him get angrier by the second.

“A break. I’m a grown man, Falyn. What is this? You’re putting me in a time-out, so I can think about what you want me to think about, the way you want me to think about it?”

“I know that’s how it looks, but I’m just trying to do the right thing. You might thank me later. I’m not trying to stir up trouble for us. I—”

“Don’t say it. Don’t say it’s because you love me, or I’ll lose my shit.”

He stood up and disappeared into my bedroom. Returning a few minutes later, he wore jeans, socks, and a black fleece pullover with a black-and-gray hat pulled low over his brows, and he bent down to pick his boots off the floor.

“You’re leaving now?” I was a bit surprised and feeling guilty for it.

Of course he was going to leave. What had I expected him to do? What had begun as good intentions was going downhill fast, and I was already regretting it even though moments before I’d thought that I thought it all through.

He pulled on his boots, shoved his dirty clothes into his backpack, and then slid one strap over his shoulder before swiping his keys off the counter. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he said, holding out his hands. He gripped the knob and then pointed at me. “I’m going to go home, and instead of applying for that job, I’m going to think about this for a week. Then I’m going to come back, and you’re going to apologize to me for fucking up the weekend I’ve been looking forward to for a month.” He yanked the door open, and without looking back, he said, “I love you.”