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  My head was quiet in that moment. Every emotion had been driven out by my lust, and now, with that sated as well, I felt only peace.

  JC broke the tranquility when he pulled out of me. He took a step back and put his hands on his sides to study me.

  The separation jarred me from my serene state of nothingness, and rapidly, feeling crept back over me like a cluster of spiders emerging from their cocoon. Doubt and uncertainty layered in on top of frustration and irritation. Envy came next. Then bitterness. The emotions choked and strangled, and I didn’t want to face any of them. I wanted to be calm and blissful again. Or, at the very least, numb.

  That, I could achieve. I was good at being numb. At being ice.

  Unable to meet JC’s eyes, I jumped to the ground and found my clothes. I pulled them on, not bothering to clean up, wanting only to be covered and no longer exposed. Needing further distraction, I bent to the ground and began picking up the mail that had fallen during our manic interlude.

  “What are you doing?” JC asked softly.

  I didn’t look at him. “Cleaning.”

  “No. You’re shutting down.”

  I winced at his ability to read me so easily. It made me feel more vulnerable than my nakedness had. Just breathe, I told myself. Breathe and let him in.

  But I didn’t breathe. Instead, I tried to distance myself further. Grabbing the flowers from the floor, I headed to the kitchen. “I’m just cleaning,” I protested sharply.

  He followed me. “You’re not. You’re shutting me out.” He was right behind me now, his body pulsing with warmth that threatened to break past my cold exterior.

  I pulled a vase from the cabinet and set it in the sink to begin filling it with water, hating my behavior, unable to change it.

  JC reached around me and turned off the faucet before the vase was full. He turned me around forcefully and took my hands in his. “Don’t do this, Gwen. Talk to me.”

  My instinct was to pull away. But the jolt of heat that seared through me at his touch was too intoxicating. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him, and, as Ben had implied earlier, I wouldn’t get that if I kept myself closed off.

  I took a deep breath in and let it out. “You’re right,” I admitted, my attention on the waist of his pants. He’d put himself away, but his buckle and snap were still open. “I don’t mean to shut down, but I can’t help it. I’m telling myself not to and still here I am closing off. I can feel it, but I don’t know how to stop it.”

  It felt better just to say that. My shoulders relaxed, and I took in another deep breath.

  JC loosely shook my arms. “You’re stopping it like this. By talking to me. We can do this. We’re just out of practice.”

  I glanced up at him. Yes, I was out of practice. The walls I’d rebuilt after he left were fragile and likely easy to topple down, but I didn’t remember how.

  But he was going to help me remember how. He ran his hands up my arms, slowly, sweetly. “What’s going on in your head, Gwen?”

  Shit, wasn’t that the question of the century? I leaned against the sink behind me, closed my eyes and tried to pinpoint the emotion consuming me most. When I found it, I crossed my arms, forcing him to drop his. “Our year apart…” I started tentatively. “Were you with anyone else?”

  His eyes remained on mine as he shook his head. “No.” He stepped closer and cupped my cheek with his palm. “No, I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

  The weight on my chest loosened, and I sighed into his hand. Immediately, I felt guilty about my relief. “I have no right to be happy about that.”

  He stroked my face with his thumb. “It was different for me, Gwen. I knew I was coming back. You didn’t.”

  I rolled my eyes up toward the ceiling. “I love how you’re consoling me when I’m the one who cheated.”

  “Stop it. You didn’t cheat.” His other hand perched on my waist, and even with my arms crossed in front of me, I felt him moving in, felt myself letting him move in. “I told you to go on with your life. I was prepared for that.”

  “And you’re okay?” My voice sounded strangled. “I mean, we’re okay even though—” I couldn’t finish the statement. He’d still wanted me, even after knowing about Chandler, and that should have been enough.

  Still, I was asking for more.

  “Oh, Gwen.” He brushed his hand up my face and through my hair. “I thought you weren’t available. I thought I would never have you again like this. In my arms.” He leaned his forehead against mine, his nose stroking against my own. “So, yes. We’re okay. You’re with me and we’re okay.”

  I opened my arms and threw them around his neck. It was difficult for me to believe that he would be so easily forgiving of another man in my bed, but I wasn’t going to push the issue. I was with him and that meant we were okay.

  Then why did I still have so much apprehension?

  “Is this all that’s causing you to close off?” JC’s ability to read my trepidation was uncanny. It was probably a blessing, since I would have likely pretended everything was hunky-dory now.

  I pushed away from him, crossing to get my kitchen shears as my excuse. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be touching him—I did. I always did. It was just easier to say some things without the distraction of his body against mine.

  “I don’t know.” I pulled the scissors from their drawer but kept my back to him a moment longer. “It’s my defense when things don’t go the way I’ve decided they should go.”

  “How have you decided they should go?”

  I turned to face him. He was leaning against the sink, his arms braced on the counter on either side of him. It was somewhat surreal to see him in my kitchen, standing next to my fridge. He fit into my life so effortlessly. Why was it so hard for me to let that be okay?

  That was exactly what he was trying to help me figure out.

  “Well.” I ran my tongue along my bottom lip as I considered how to answer. “Like tonight. Like earlier. That’s how I think we should be doing this. We should date. We should get to know things about each other before we jump back into this other stuff.” I took the scissors and returned to the sink, reaching behind him to turn on the faucet.

  “Tonight was great,” he said as I picked up the roses. “I loved every minute of it. But we can’t play at innocent forever.”

  “Well, that definitely wasn’t innocent,” I said, nodding to the foyer where our sexcapade had taken place.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. Eventually we have to address that there’s a whole history between us.”

  “A whole history based on sex.” I pulled off all the plastic water containers at once then stuck the ends of the flowers under the running water.

  “So? Does that invalidate how I feel about you? Because I know more about how to make you come than about who you voted for in the last election? Some people, not all people, meet and establish a relationship outside the bedroom first. But when they move to the bedroom, they don’t suddenly give up on everything they have outside of it. We’re just going the other direction. We’re sexual people. It makes sense that we establish a connection there first.”

  I’d trimmed the stems as he’d talked, but now I halted, mulling over what he’d said. It challenged traditional thinking, but that didn’t make it irrational.

  JC reached over and turned off the faucet then took the bouquet out of my hand, dropping it into the vase and setting that on the counter before he faced me. “It doesn’t mean my feelings for you aren’t real. It doesn’t mean we’re doing it wrong. It means we’re doing it the way that’s right for us.”

  “The way that’s right for us,” I repeated. I liked that. It sounded so easy. But was it too easy?

  And if it was, was there anything really wrong with that?

  I didn’t have an answer. All I knew was I was still reluctant. I shook the excess water from my hands then crossed my arms. “We can’t simply pick up where we left off.”

  “Why n
ot?”

  “Because we can’t.” I stomped off across the room, having no destination picked out, just needing to get some space.

  “Why. Not?” he asked again, following after me.

  Jesus, this was ridiculous. I couldn’t think of one good reason. There weren’t any. His points had made sense, and I’d liked them in theory. Get to know each other while we still had sex? Great idea. Stop worrying whether my affair with Chandler was an issue? Yes, please.

  Yet there was still the urge to resist, the urge to refute. The urge to shut down. And the reason was embarrassing and not one I wanted to admit, but another part of me wanted to tell him everything.

  With every ounce of courage I had, I spun to face him. “Because I’m scared. That’s why. I’m scared.” I flashed a tight smile that I couldn’t hold and rubbed my hands up and down my arms. “You broke my heart when you left, JC. It shook my world, and I’m so afraid that…” That he’d leave again. That he’d decide he couldn’t ever love me like he’d loved her.

  I swiped at a tear as it rolled down my cheek. Great. Now I was crying. God, I was so lame.

  JC stepped toward me, his arms out, but I stepped out of his reach.

  He sighed, but he didn’t try again.

  I stared at the floor and caught the next tear with my knuckle at my eye before it fell. “I’m sorry I’m such a coward. It’s not fair for me to hold your leaving against you. You didn’t have a choice.”

  “You should hold it against me.”

  My eyes flew up to his.

  “I did have a choice, Gwen. I knew when I met you that if Ralphio ever got brought in that I might have to go under. I knew I wasn’t available, and that getting involved with you wasn’t the right thing to do. And I did it anyway.”

  There it was, the source of his resentment. He hadn’t wanted to get involved, and yet he did. His life would probably have been a whole lot easier if he hadn’t met me.

  But, damn, wasn’t I glad that he had?

  This time when he stepped toward me, I didn’t move.

  “I couldn’t stay away,” he said, wrapping me into his arms. “I couldn’t stop myself from loving you.”

  “You tried though.” I nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling several times braver in his embrace.

  He kissed the top of my hair. “And I hurt you then too.”

  “We hurt each other.”

  He leaned back so he could look me in the eyes. “But we don’t have to hurt each other anymore.” He cradled my face in his hands, his thumb wiping away a lingering tear. “‘I know you’re scared, I can feel it. It’s in the air, I know you feel it too. But take a chance on me, you won’t regret it.’”

  He was quoting the opening lines to the song he’d introduced me to. A Maroon 5 song called “My Heart is Open.” He’d said it made him think of us. I’d played it over and over so many times in the past year, wishing he was there to tell me the words again.

  And now he was.

  “My heart is open, Gwen. Whatever else has happened, whatever other things are standing between us, my heart is open.”

  I reached my hand up to run it through his hair. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “You never did.” He bent to kiss me with long languid strokes of his tongue. Then he pulled me in tighter, clutching me to him as he buried his face in my hair. “I should have begged. On my knees.” He said it so quietly that I was surprised I heard it.

  I was also surprised he’d said it. Surprised that he still had thoughts about asking me to marry him when he’d only proposed so I could go with him into protection.

  Though, I still thought about it. So why shouldn’t he?

  As long as we were being honest…“If you had,” I admitted. “I would have said yes.”

  He pulled back again, his hands on my upper arms. “Say yes to me now.” He paused and my pulse started racing. He couldn’t be asking again, could he? But then he said, “Tell me your heart is open.”

  I was almost disappointed it wasn’t a real proposal. But this I could answer without having a complete panic attack. “Yes. My heart is open.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It was nearly eight before we went to bed. When I woke up later, I’d moved out of JC’s embrace, but I could still feel his presence next to me before I opened my eyes.

  Then he was kissing my temple. “Good morning, sleeping beauty. Or should I say afternoon?”

  My smile turned into a yawn as I rolled to nuzzle into him. “You’re here.”

  “You thought I would sneak out?” He wrapped an arm around me, drawing me even closer.

  “Mm,” I said, which was more of a response to the feel of his bare chest against my cheek than it was to his question. “I thought I might have dreamed you.”

  “Nope.” He ran his fingers lazily up and down my back. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  I lay pressed against him like that, enjoying his warmth and musky scent while I wrestled off the last remaining remnants of sleep. If I had ever felt this relaxed and free in my life, I couldn’t remember it.

  After a few minutes, I may not have been all the way awake, but my arousal was, and I found myself wondering if we had time for another round before I had to get up and shower. I shifted but couldn’t see the alarm clock behind me without moving out of his arms, and I wasn’t doing that.

  Instead, I tilted my head up and kissed the underside of his jaw. “What time is it? Have you been awake long?”

  “Almost four.” His throat vibrated as he spoke, tickling my chin with his scruff. “And no, not long.”

  “Wow. It’s late.” I stretched, and my muscles complained, reminding me of all the ways we’d fucked before surrendering to sleep. Nope, definitely not a dream. “You’re probably all screwed up on your sleep now. Welcome to the life of a woman of the night. This is my normal wake up time.”

  JC scooted down so we were face-to-face. “Then I’ll just have to make it my normal wake up time.” He pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not officially back to work yet, but even once I am, I make my own hours.”

  After the events of the night before and that morning, it was surprising that such a simple statement could make me giddy, but it did. He wanted to adjust his life to fit with mine. That felt huge. That felt like commitment. And, for once, commitment didn’t feel so scary. JC and I had only been back together one day, and already he’d knocked down most of my walls. So much for my go-slow plan. His method of jumping back in was a much better one.

  “You’re glowing,” he said, a smirk on his lips. “I haven’t even had my way with you yet.”

  “Must still be from this morning. But I think I feel it wearing off.” I blinked at him coyly.

  “Do you have to go to the club tonight?” His subtext was clear—how much time do we have?

  “No club. I always have dinner with Hudson and Laynie on Thursdays, though.” Maybe it was because we’d been so long apart, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving him for my weekly date with the Pierces. “Should I cancel? Or would you want to go with me? I’m supposed to be there at seven-thirty.” I hoped my subtext was clear too—we have plenty of time to fool around before then.

  His eyes genuinely brightened at the invitation. “I’d love to meet your friends. Will they mind if I intrude?”

  I shook my head. “Alayna has heard me talk about you so much, I’m sure she’s dying to finally meet you.”

  “She’s heard about me, has she? What exactly has she heard?”

  “Good things. Mostly. She was with me when I watched your wedding video.”

  “Ah, fuck.” He fell onto his back, a hand covering his face.

  I laughed. “No, she’s a fan. I promise.” She was also a fan of Chandler, but I didn’t mention that. Laynie would love whoever made me happiest, and my gut said that was definitely JC.

  He moved his hand from his face to behind his head. “Okay. Then we’ll go. I’ll have to stop by the Ritz for a change of cloth
es first.”

  “You’re not staying at the Four Seasons?” It felt strange to think of him staying anywhere other than the room that we’d spent almost the entirety of our affair.

  “I couldn’t be there without you.” He swiveled his head toward me, his gaze bold and challenging, as if he thought I might have gotten cold feet again while we’d slept and that his statements of affection would cause me to withdraw.

  The joke was on him because I hadn’t gotten cold feet. In fact, I was feeling particularly brazen myself. I propped my head up with my hand, eager to test my newfound courage with an idea that had suddenly popped into my head. “Hey. Where are you going to live?”

  He rolled to his side, mirroring my position. “In New York. If you want me.”

  A thrill shot through my body. “I want you.”

  “That’s convenient, since I want you too.” His tone was suggestive, and he lifted the sheet up to peek at my naked body underneath.

  As much as I was interested in pursuing that suggestion, I was intent on finishing this conversation first. I pulled the sheet back down, clutching it to my chest so he wouldn’t be distracted. “I mean, I want you in New York.”

  “Excellent. I’ll start looking for a place.” He inched closer, obviously assuming that would end the discussion.

  “Or, you could…” I hesitated, not chickening out, exactly, but wondering if I should.

  “I could…what? Rip the sheet from your hand and fuck you blind? Oh, I plan to.” He pulled me into him so that the length of his body was pressed against mine. My skin buzzed despite the barrier of the sheet between us.

  “That’s a whole lot less forward and presumptuous than what I was going to say.” Also, his plan was a whole lot more of a turn-on. Maybe the discussion could be put on hold after all. “Let’s go with yours.”

  But now I had JC’s curiosity. “Tell me what your plan was first.”

  “Well. I was just thinking that you could move in with me.” As soon as I said it, my courage wavered. “Too soon? Yeah. It’s too soon. Forget I said anything and get to blinding me.” Though technically we’d been together for a year and a half. Maybe too soon wasn’t the right reason moving in together was a potentially bad idea, but there was probably something, and I was sure he was probably thinking whatever it was.