“Look, last night, yesterday, emotions were running high, okay?” I spin around to face him and the look in his eyes—pure unfiltered sadness—almost breaks me in two. “So I get that you said some things and did some things that you wouldn’t have normally said and done and I get it. I’m not going to go all stage-five clinger and hold you to promises made in the heat of the moment.”

He stares at me in silence for a minute. “Do you really think so little of me?”

My voice drops. “I think the world of you, Jack. You’re the best man I’ve ever known. Which is how I know you’d never actually want to be with someone like me.” I bite my lip, doing my best to choke back the flood of words threatening to burst out of my mouth. I won’t resort to begging.

He crosses over to me, reaching out for my hand and lacing our fingers together. “Do I get any say in this, or do you just make all the decisions here?”

My lips purse, and I shake my head, unable to open my mouth without breaking down.

He tugs on my hand, pulling me into his embrace, tucking my head under his chin. “I’m not sure what you think ‘all in’ means, Sade, but for me it sure as fuck doesn’t mean waking up the next morning and walking away from the woman I’m falling for.”

I turn my head into his chest, not wanting him to see my face. “How could you ever possibly fall for an asshole like me, Jack?”

He separates us, cupping my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. “Stop calling my girlfriend an asshole.” He tries to keep a serious face, but it doesn’t work, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Can I call you that?”

Has anything on this earth ever sounded so sweet as Jack Thomas’s referring to me as his girlfriend? I honestly don’t know what to do with his declaration, or the affection it implies, but it does something to soothe my worries. Somehow Jack’s calling me “girlfriend” feels more intimate than his hand down my pants. But because I can’t just accept the actual sentiment behind his words, I do what I always do and deflect. “Are you asking if you can call me ‘asshole’?”

He moves his hand to the nape of my neck. “No. ‘Girlfriend.’ ”

I don’t resist when he pulls me closer. “It does make me feel like we’re in seventh grade. Which I think is the last time I had a boyfriend.”

“Do you want me to be your boyfriend, Sadie?” There’s a wicked glint sparking in his eyes.

My lips pull down, doing their best to fight off the growing urge to smile. “Are you always going to be this cheesy?”