“Shh.”
“I’ll hurt you. I already am. You deserve better—”
“Shut up, Gideon.” I climbed him and wrapped my legs around his waist, holding on.
“Cary told me how you looked . . .” He began to shake violently. “You don’t see what I’m doing to you. I’m breaking you, Eva—”
“That’s not true.”
He sank to his knees on the floor, clasping me tightly. “I’ve trapped you in this. You don’t see it now, but you knew from the beginning— You knew what I would do to you, but I wouldn’t let you run.”
“I’m not running anymore. You’ve made me stronger. You gave me a reason to try harder.”
“God.” His eyes were haunted. He sat, stretching his legs out, pulling me closer. “We’re so fucked up, and I’ve handled everything all wrong. We’re going to kill each other with this. We’ll tear each other apart until there’s nothing left.”
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear any more of that shit. Did you go to Dr. Petersen?”
His head fell back against the wall and his eyes closed. “Yes, damn it.”
“Did you tell him about last night?”
“Yes.” His jaw clenched. “And he said the same thing he started on last week. That we’re in too deep. We’re drowning each other. He thinks we need to pull back, date platonically, sleep separately, spend more time together with others and less time alone.”
It would be better, I thought. Better for our sanity, better for our chances. “I hope he’s got a Plan B.”
Gideon opened his eyes and looked at my scowling face. “That’s what I said. Again.”
“So we’re fucked up. Every relationship has issues.”
He snorted.
“Seriously,” I insisted.
“We are going to sleep separately. That’s something I let go too far.”
“Separate beds or separate apartments?”
“Beds. That’s all I can stand.”
“All right.” I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder, so grateful that he was in my arms again and that we were together. “I can deal. For now.”
His throat worked on a hard swallow. “When I came home and found you here—” His arms tightened around me. “God, Eva. I thought Cary was lying about you not being home, that you just didn’t want to see me. Then I thought you might be out . . . moving on.”
“You’re not that easy to get over, Gideon.” I didn’t think I’d ever get over him. He was in my blood. I straightened so he could see my face.
He placed his hand over his heart, the hand with the key. “Thank you for this.”
“Don’t let that go,” I warned again.
“Don’t regret giving it to me.” He pressed his forehead to mine. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin and thought he might have whispered something, but I didn’t catch it if he did.
It didn’t matter. We were together. After the long awful day, nothing else was important.
Chapter 8
The sound of my bedroom door opening ended my forgettable dream, but it was the mouthwatering aroma of coffee that really woke me up. I stretched but kept my eyes closed, allowing the anticipation to build.
Gideon took a seat on the edge of the mattress, and a moment later his fingers drifted across my cheek. “How did you sleep?”
“I missed you. Is that coffee I smell for me?”
“If you’re good.”
My eyes popped open. “But you like me bad.”
His smile did crazy things to me. He’d dressed already in one of his amazingly sexy suits and looked much better this morning than he had the night before. “I like you bad with me. Tell me about this concert on Friday.”
“It’s a band called Six-Ninths. That’s all I know. Wanna go?”
“It’s not a question of whether I want to go. If you’re going, so am I.”
My brows rose. “Is that right? And what if I hadn’t asked you?”