He takes another bite of his cereal and swallows. “Yeah, but we won’t be sleeping in it.” His tone is matter-of-fact.
Okay, so I get how he thinks we’ll be having massive amounts of sex on the bed but I hope he knows he has to sleep over. I’m not one of those girls he can sleep with and then leave before the sun comes up. If he thinks that’s going to happen then he’s not nearly as serious as I thought and everything he said is just—
“Why won’t we be sleeping in it?” My words come out tentative and soft.
He shrugs his shoulders, indifferently. “Because we’ll be sleeping in my bed.”
Oh.
When he sees my face, which I’m sure is confused, he puts the bowl down on my dresser and walks toward me. Stopping at the foot of the bed, he looks down at me, his hands at his side. “You’re not living here anymore, Emma.”
My brows shoot up at him. “What?”
Alexander climbs on the bed, up to the place next to me, stretching out along the top of the comforter. His feet hit the very edge and his arm curls up around the pillow and leans his hand on his head, propping it up. “You’re moving in with me.”
My heart stops for a beat and I have to remind myself to breathe. This is an unexpected turn of events. “I am not moving in with you.”
“Yes, you are. My girl is not sleeping in a ground floor apartment in downtown Manhattan every night by herself. It’s bad enough I’ve been following you home every night just to make sure you’re home safely. I want you with me, in my bed, every night.”
“You’ve been following me?” I ask and he nods as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. I push the hair back from my face and down my scalp and look down at the floral design in my comforter.
Move in with him? It’s so very sudden. I thought he liked me, and then I thought he hated me. Now, he’s falling for me and this is all within just a couple of months. I like my apartment. I’m proud of the life I’ve made here and the woman I’m becoming inside these walls. I never planned on staying here forever but to move out now, and for him?
“This is you being impulsive. I want this to work but we have to take it one day at a time. What do I do if in a month you realize you’re bored of me and want out? Then what? Not only will I be crushed and devastated but I’ll be homeless. I’m not taking that chance.”
Alexander’s mouth falls. He sits up and rises to his knees taking a position directly in front of me. He lowers his face so it’s even with my own.
I am still looking down at the large hibiscus flower on my comforter and playing my fingers along my thigh, trying to focus on anything but his brooding face. He does brooding well.
“Emma, look at me,” he commands.
Reluctantly, I lift my gaze. He takes his hands in mine and skims his fingers along my scar.
“I want to get bored of you. I want you to get bored with me. I want the ordinary and the mundane. I want the exciting and the extraordinary. I will never want you out because you and I are one. Isn’t that what you want?”
Damn him and his perfect words. I bite my lip and think of the predicament. He’s promising forever after a few hours of reconciliation. He wants me to give him all of me when I’m not ready to hand it over. And, despite what he’s saying now, I fear he will get up one day and decide he wants out. We haven’t known each other long and his track record is far from impeccable. It’s all moving fast and I need to gather the reins.
I want to be with him, though, more than anything in the world. “It would have been nice to be asked.”
He smirks and lifts my hand to his mouth. “Emma Paige.” Those plumb, beautiful lips kiss my knuckle. “Will you move in with me?”
I blush at his sweetness and give him a cocky smile. “No. I like my apartment.”
His face falls but he doesn’t relent. Instead, he looks around the room and resigns. “Well, it looks like I’m moving in here then.”
My head rolls back with a laughter. When his body crawls up my body, I stop laughing and let him get very, very serious.
With me.
On me.
In me.