Jace pulls me up and pins me against the wall, moving his hand between my legs to rub the nub of nerves there. I’m already aroused, so it only takes a few seconds before I’m hit with another toe-curling surge of sheer bliss. Jace leans his forehead against mine, both of us sated for the moment.

I turn off the faucet and step out of the shower, drying myself off with the plush towel hanging there, then wrapping the soft fabric around my body. Jace steps out after me. I pull a fresh towel from the cabinet for him to use. He dries off and then ties it around his waist. I quickly brush my teeth and hand Jace one of the extra toothbrushes stored under the sink. I lean against the wall next to the sink, watching as he spits and rinses off the toothbrush.

“What?” he asks gruffly, catching my stare as he turns toward the door.

I shrug, grinning. “I just like looking at you.”

Jace smiles. I turn off the lights and walk back into my bedroom. I drop my towel and slip under the crisp sheets. Jace follows suit, and I snuggle up against his side.

I’m warm and content, rapidly losing hold of consciousness, when Jace says the last thing I ever expected him to.

“Why didn’t you tell me we could get married?”

“What?” I open my eyes, wondering if I somehow misheard him.

“Your father told me tonight we could get married if I apply for citizenship.”

“He did what?” I exclaim, sitting up in bed. “He had no right to do that.”

“You let me think we could never have any future.”

“We can’t.”

“We could. We could get married, and you wouldn’t have to marry him.”

“I told you I’d never ask you to choose me. I meant that. You’d have to give up everything, Jace. Your career, your family, your friends, your country. I could never ask you to do that.”

“I know you’re not asking me to. But it’s my choice. I didn’t even know there is one.”

“There’s not,” I insist. “It’s not an option, Jace.”

“Because you don’t want to marry me?”

I huff out a dry laugh. It’s a ridiculous question. Almost as ridiculous as my father suggesting to Jace this is an option.

“Because you would be miserable. You would be stuck here all day, every day. No privacy, no freedom, endless obligations. You would hate me for all you had to give up. You’re meant to be playing in front of thousands of fans and visiting your parents’ farm and…” My voice threatens to fail, but I forge on, needing to make certain Jace drops this subject permanently. I won’t be able to muster the strength to discuss it again. “And to marry someone like Gretchen, who can support you and do those things with you.”

Jace doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly into the darkness. “You know I wish things were different. More than anything.”