Via let her eyes rest on the matching copper bedside lamps, the half-drunk glass of water, the dog-eared book and the—gulp—reading glasses. Everything in Via’s body pulled tight when she pictured Sebastian lying in bed—shirtless, because hey, this was her fantasy—with those black-rimmed glasses on, reading.

Finally, finally, she let her eyes fall to the bed. That same green comforter she’d seen in a picture once was smooth over top of the queen-size frame. The bed was made nicely, but not obsessively so, a little rumpled in one corner. And the headboard was a raw slab of wood, obviously something that Sebastian had made on his own. The whole effect was gorgeous and sexy...and completely intimidating.

She felt his warm hand at her lower back, and Via realized he’d threaded his fingers through the belt loop at the back of her trousers. He gave her a gentle tug forward and backward, his mouth dropping to her neck again.

“You know,” he whispered hotly over skin he’d just dampened, “every time I’ve pictured you in my bedroom, it was never for that reason.” He pointed into one corner that she hadn’t looked at yet.

A sound of total horror exploded out of her. She winced and covered her eyes with her hands.

“Oh my God, Seb. How can you possibly stand that?”

Her trepidation about his intimidating bedroom completely forgotten, Via pulled away from him, striding in and planting herself on the floor next to the open suitcase. She grimaced at the pile of unfolded clothes, the half-full travel bottles strewn about, the mismatched socks.

He chuckled. “I’m hoping you find this charming and not grounds to break up with me.”

Via tried not to startle at his words. She hadn’t realized that they were in a place where they could break up yet. Did that mean that he considered them to be together? Did that mean that they were exclusive? The idea utterly thrilled Via, but not as much as it shocked her.

Sure, they’d texted the entire week. Made out in his living room three times. And talked on the phone, just because, twice. But in Via’s world, that could mean anything. Shit, she’d been sleeping with Evan for six months before he’d even admitted that they were dating.

Via yanked the suitcase toward her and fiddled with it, hoping to cover her reaction.

“Charming or not,” she told him in a totally normal voice that she thanked the heavens for, “I’m about to have a coronary. Go fill these up while I start folding.”

She shoved the travel bottles into his hands and turned to the pile of clothes. He set the bottles aside.

“I just totally freaked you out, didn’t I?”

“What?” She didn’t look up at him as she started pairing socks, tucking them into one zippered pocket as she went.

“Fuck,” Seb swore suddenly. He sat abruptly on the ground and leaned his back against the bed. When she looked up at him, his head was down, and he was roughly scraping a hand over the back of his neck.