He grabs my waist just as my feet touch the floor at the side of the bed. “It was a road trip.” He kisses my neck. “The truck didn’t break down. We weren’t stranded. We weren’t even away from what I assume you’re referring to as ‘reality’ for very long. I wasn’t sex starved and desperate. You weren’t an impulse. What I feel for you right now—with a world of other choices—is real. I want you.”

My next breath holds back the tears. I want to be strong—not for Jake. I want to be strong for me. “I like to shop. And I like impractical shoes and manicured hands and feet.”

“I know.” He chuckles, kissing my neck again.

“And I have a past. A past dotted with moments and decisions I’m not proud of. But … it’s made me the person I am right now. So if you want me, then you have to—”

“Love you as a whole. Not the parts I find most attractive. I have to love you—all of you.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I think you going back to Milwaukee is good timing. I need to get a better job and a place of my own to live. You need to spend time with your friends. Maybe when you have Mo at your place and I’m halfway across the country, you’ll have a better perspective of your feelings for me.”

His grip around my waist stiffens. His whole body pressed to my back goes rigid.

I twist around to look at him. Jake releases me and sits back against the wood headboard, covering his midsection with a pillow.

“What?” I pull the sheet to my chest … since we’re apparently covering up now. “Why do you have that look—that constipated look?”

“About Mo …”

I tighten my grip on the sheet held to my chest, feeling extra vulnerable.

“I may have fictionalized her a bit … to gauge where we stood. I wanted to know if you’d be jealous … if you still cared. If you still wanted us.”

My eyes widen, lips part. “Wh-what? You made her up?” My head jerks back.

He tips his head up, tightening the cords in his neck as he scratches his chin. “Mo is Jace’s dog. Golden Retriever. She’s beautiful. And I took her camping with me two years ago while Jace scouted a fighter.”

My shock transforms into a full scowl. “You. Ass!” I toss the sheet aside and collect my clothes from the floor like I’m mad at them more than him.

No. I love my clothes … Yep, I love them more than the liar in the bed. If I didn’t love these black Jimmy Choo’s so much, I’d jab the heel into Jake’s eye.

“Ave …” He grabs his jeans at a much slower pace.