These aren’t things you talk about with a one-night stand, right? Or a three-night stand, which is what we’re up to?

It’s an immensely personal question. One I wouldn’t ordinarily answer. But something about the way that he asked it—like he cares what the response might be—causes me to reply.

I shake my head. “No.”

Based on the way his body relaxes, that’s the answer he wanted. “Is that why you didn’t sleep with him?”

“Maybe. But it was more… I don’t know. I didn’t want it to just be a physical thing. Not a fairy tale, but someone familiar. Someone I trusted. Someone I wanted enough not to freak out about it.”

He assembles two shelves before he speaks again. “I’m sorry I was such an ass before, at Malone’s. I was in a bad headspace, but still…it’s no excuse. You deserved better. Deserve better.”

“You already apologized. You don’t need to again.”

“Yes, I do.” His face and voice are fierce. “Don’t let people treat you that way, Evie.”

“I don’t, Gray. If anyone else had said those things to me, acted that way, I would have never talked to them again. Much less slept with them.”

“Then, why…”

I crawl into his lap. He shifts to accommodate me, his hands sneaking under the cotton and settling on my hips. The simple touch sends shivers up my spine. Metal clanks as the screws on the floor scatter. I don’t want to reply to him; I want the release my body has come to crave from his. Lust pools in my lower stomach as I grind against him, seeking friction.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Gray.”

His eyes meet mine, blazing with questions and understanding. “This shirt looks good on you,” he whispers before he kisses me.

The kiss is full of sensation. It’s also brimming with emotion. I didn’t know you could convey words with a kiss until right now—this exact second.

I know what a kiss means. Something. You don’t kiss someone for no reason at all. You’re chasing a feeling. You’re not saying anything.

Except…Gray is saying a lot.

So am I.

With our hands. Our lips. Our moans and groans.

But we don’t actually say anything at all.

I wake up to dim light. I blink a few times, experiencing an uncomfortable flash of déjà vu. The decision on whether to roll over or not becomes an internal battle.

“Don’t let people treat you that way, Evie.”

Maybe he’s trying to push me away.

Slowly, I turn onto my back. My head moves even more gradually. Inch by inch, the view of the ceiling shifts to my wall. Shifts to the guy beside me in bed.

The light is coming from a lamp.

He’s holding a book, not a phone.