He’s right. That’s exactly what I do. But why?
“Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.” He moves one step toward me. “Something bigger than us fucking happened in my bed this afternoon, Mouse.” He closes in. “Had a few single-serving sex sessions in my life, and those don’t bring you back around. Yet, here you are.”
Here I am.
“Why’d you come back?” There’s hopefulness in his voice.
“I don’t know, I—”
“Answer the fucking question, Mouse. Why are you here?”
“I just… wanted to see if you’d watch TV with me.”
His lips pull into a spectacular smile that makes my heart drop into my stomach. I swallow hard at the gleam in his eye.
“Good answer.” He erases the space between us. “You win.” His fingers sift through my hair, and he studies my face.
I lock my hands behind his neck. He leans in to bring his lips to mine, but an unresolved issue turns my face away.
He groans and drops his forehead to my shoulder. “Fuck, what now?”
“Why are you half naked and sweaty?”
He gives me some space but won’t meet my eyes.
“And why are your jeans unbuttoned?”
A grimace twists his expression into one of shame.
He never denied there being a woman in his house with him. Nausea rolls my stomach. “Is there or is there not a woman in your house?”
Rolling his head back, he gazes at the sky before locking eyes with me. “You don’t understand.”
My heart races, blood pumping so hard I can hear it in my ears. “Don’t understand? Then explain it, Blake.” I’m yelling and probably getting the attention of his neighbors, but I couldn’t care less. “You make it seem like I’m the one who treated you badly this afternoon, but how long did it take you to fill your bed? An hour? Two?”
“Mouse—”
“Don’t.” I turn and head to my car. He doesn’t stop me. Not when I’m past the condo wall, not when I get to the top of the stairs to the parking lot, and not when I’m halfway to my car. My eyes start to burn. What just happened? I thought he wanted me there, but… I squeeze my eyes shut and refuse to let the tears fall.
Emotional and shaky, I fumble my keys at the Bronco door. They slip from my fingers. “Dammit.” I bend over to pick them up and move to shove the key in the door when two strong arms wrap tight around my waist from behind.
“Shit!”
He buries his face in my hair. “Don’t go. Please, sweetheart.” His arms grip tighter, clinging to me as if his life depends on my answer. “I’ll tell you anything. Just please… stay.”
My heart clenches at the defenseless sound in his voice. I smooth my hand over his forearms, willing him to loosen his hold. “I’ll stay, Blake.”
“It’s not a girl. I promise. I’d never do that to you. You have to believe me.” His words are rushed. The desperation in his voice makes him sound like a boy rather than the capable fighter, the man, I know him to be.
“I believe you. Let’s go inside so we can talk.”
He nods into my hair and releases his hold. Tugging my hand, he leads me back to his place. Once inside, he stops me in the foyer. His eyes dart around the room. Why is he so nervous?
“Blake, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I have to show you something. I’ve never shown anyone and…” He looks over his shoulder and down the hallway.
I tuck my clammy hands under my arms, adrenaline spiking. What could he possibly be hiding back there? “Does this have anything to do with what you were doing when I got here?”
“It does. It is. What I was doing when you got here.”
Something he’s never shared with anyone but me? My mind is my worst enemy as I imagine what he could be hiding.
“I was born with…” He runs his hand over his cropped hair. “Far back as I can remember.” Again, he looks over his shoulder and back to me.
As much as I want to reach out and touch him, to let him know I’m here in a physical way, his tense muscles and rigid frame tell me words will have to do. “It’s okay. You can trust me.”
He studies my face through narrowed eyes for what seems like forever.
“I’ve shared some really deep stuff about my past with you, Blake. I know what it means to have parts of you that don’t go public. You’re safe with me.”
He rakes his teeth over his lip a few times before he grabs my hand to lead me down the hall. My stomach jumps when he stops at the closed door across from his bedroom. He maneuvers me so that I’m facing the door, his big body pressed in behind me. I turn my head and peek up at him. His eyes stay glued straight ahead. Whatever’s in there is important to him. I only hope I can handle it.
“Open the door,” he says against my ear.
I nod and grab the door handle with a shaky hand. Steadying my breath, I turn the knob, and push it open. The light’s dim, but it’s bright enough that I can see the room’s contents. His body tenses against my back.
Holy Mary Mother of God.
Blake