She shivered and he turned her to face him. “Lily, I—”

“I want to be done talking now,” she said.

Yeah, him too. But this was important. He felt like they were teetering on the edge, flirting with something deep. There were two choices here, two very different options—ignore what was happening and just sleep together, or take the plunge.

And then sleep together.

His body voted for whatever option got her naked the fastest, because damn she looked hot, and he knew with one kiss that she would melt for him.

But his brain … it wouldn’t shut up. He needed to know what her problem was so that he could fix it, once and for all. “This is too important to ignore,” he managed.

She dropped her head to his chest.

He lifted her chin. “You’re too important. What we’re working on here is too important.”

Her gaze skittered away. “What we’re working on?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Us.”

Now she met his gaze again, hers confused. “I wasn’t even aware there was an us.”

Yeah, he hadn’t been sure until right about now, either, but he was sure. Shockingly so. “Feels like there’s a big us,” he said.

Lily shook her head, and just before she closed her eyes he saw the truth. “You’re running from me again.”

“You know that my being here is temporary,” she said. “Soon as I get a job offer …”

No, that wasn’t it. Well, it might be part of it, but geographical issues were just a matter of logistics. Then the real reason occurred to him and his gut hit his toes. “You don’t feel like you deserve to be loved,” he said.

More stillness from her. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she was breathing. He stroked a hand up her back. “Lily—”

“I’m working on that,” she said softly. “I am. But you make me feel things I’m not ready for. I’ve been really good at keeping myself isolated so I wouldn’t engage my heart. So good that I’m not sure I can stop. I’m really talented at not feelings things anymore, Aidan.”

“I don’t buy it,” he said. “You’re warm and open and caring. You can’t be those things without feeling something. You give so much to everyone—”

She shook her head.

“You do. Jonathan,” he said. “Your clients …” He gently wrapped his hand up in her ponytail and tugged her head back to see her eyes. “Me.”

She snorted. “I don’t give to you. You give to me. Constantly rescuing me like one of your five-alarm calls.”

“I care about you.”

“You care about all your calls.”