“I want those same things for you. You deserve to be safe and happy, too.” She took his face in her hands, shook him a little. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He almost laughed. He’d heard those words so many fucking times, if he strung them together they’d stretch from Chicago to New York three times. He was trying to hold on to his anger, to his conviction that he couldn’t have Mandy, but it was so damn hard when she was looking at him like that.

Like she loved him.

“I love you, Damien. Please don’t dismiss that.”

“You don’t even know me.” He took her arms, moved them to her lap to distance her, to distract him from his pounding heart and stupid foolish hope.

“Yes, I do. I know everything that matters about you. I know you’re a wonderful man of integrity. I know that you’re complex, driven, and that you’re compassionate. I know you.” She ignored the wet stains on each of her cheeks and met his gaze straight on. “And I know that you didn’t come to my apartment at two in the morning to tell me to kiss off.”

He had thought he had. He had thought he was here to warn her away from him. But he wasn’t sure he could convince her when he was desperately wavering himself.

“What do you really want, Damien? If there was no past and no guilt and no fear? What do you really want?”

That was brutally easy to answer. But he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud. Wasn’t sure it would be smart to put into words feelings that couldn’t, shouldn’t, matter in the long run. Eyes closed tight, he drew in a painful breath.

Mandy kissed his forehead, her dewy lips gliding back and forth, her whispered words muffled against his skin. “It’s okay…just tell me what you feel. Tell me what you want.”

He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t keep his fingers from drawing up her back, pulling her into him. He couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

“I want you…I want you to love me.”

Her mouth shifted on his forehead, kissing over to his temple, with a tenderness that made his throat constrict.

“That’s easy enough. I do love you.”

It sounded so true, so right, so pure when she whispered that to him. “What else do you want?”

“I want you to be mine.” His voice got stronger, the lump in his throat easing up. He rubbed his lips along her cheek. “I want to love you.”

Her lips met his, briefly, tantalizing. “Then love me, Damien. Love me.”