“I’m not mad at you!” He took a few calming breaths and repeated, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated.”
“And how do you think I feel, Nate? I’m locked up in here all day, every day. It was bad enough when I was stuck in your house, now I’m confined to your basement. I don’t see the light of day. I’m stuck here with nothing but my thoughts and insecurities haunting me. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know when you’ll be home or if you’ll be home. I spend all goddamn day worrying about what you’re doing out there, and I have no fuckin’ way to get to you. What would I do if something happened to you?” I took a calming breath. “You’re the only thing I know, Nate.”
“Exactly!” He sighed and squatted in front of me. His voice softened when he said, “I’m all you know, Bai.”
“So what?”
“So what if I spend my days thinking about you? Falling for you? And you give me what I want because I’m all you know?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered, drowning in the clarity of his admission. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. All I know is that these feelings I have for you… I’ve never felt them before. Not even the slightest. And if I thought I could decipher what love was, then I’d probably tell you that’s what it is. It’s just that I don’t—”
“Bailey…” he interrupted.
“What?”
He leaned forward and linked his fingers with mine. “That’s all,” he said. “That’s everything I wanted to hear.”
I looked up at him, fear and confusion and hurt and every single damn emotion clouding my vision.
He smiled warmly, and then he shrugged. “I guess I don’t know love for me, either.”
My eyebrows pinched. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Shaking his head, he laughed once. “I guess not.”
“Are you saying that you—”
“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he said, cutting me off. “Just kiss me already.”
“But we just had a fight!”
He smirked. “That was a fight?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“We’re probably going to fight a lot…” he said, eyebrows raised. “And it’ll be hard because…” he waved a finger around the room, “…there’s no escaping each other.”
“So what do we do?”
“We end them all like this.” And then he kissed me. Once. Twice. And by the third time, he was in my bed next to me, under the covers, kissing my jaw, my neck, my chest. My fingers found his hair, lacing, and tugging.
“Nate?” I said into his mouth.
He ran his tongue along my lips and responded with an, “uh?”
“Have you ever had sex?”
He choked on a laugh but stopped the instant he looked up and saw the seriousness in my face.
“Well… have you?”
His mouth moved from across my cheek and to the spot right below my ear. “I really don’t want to talk about it while we’re doing this.”
My hands flattened on his chest, and I pushed him away with so much force he landed on his back. Leaning up on my elbow, I looked down at him. “Have you?”
“Bailey, I’m a twenty-two-year-old guy. Of course I’ve had sex.”
“How much?”
“How much what?”
“Huh?”
“Times or people?”
My eyes widened.
“Actually, no, don’t clarify because I can’t answer either.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I don’t know.”
“Because you’ve lost count?”
“Yes.”
“Well, at least you’re honest,” I said, climbing to straddle his lap.
He linked his hands behind his head and smiled up at me. “That’s it? No third degree?”
I shrugged. “Are you having sex with anyone now?”
He looked at our joined parts. “Not that I’m aware of,” he joked.
Slapping his chest, I said, “Not right now. I mean…” I averted my gaze, trying to hide my true insecurity. “I mean, when you’re out… working. Are you—”
“No, Bailey,” he cut in. “I haven’t been with anyone since you moved in. I swear. Do you honestly think I would?”
“I don’t know what you do during the day, I only have you at night.”
He laughed. “You have me at night?”
I nodded as I leaned down to kiss him. “Yup. I own you,” I joked, but he didn’t seem to get it, he just placed his hands on my waist and kissed me back.
“I’m yours,” he murmured, his tongue swiping mine as he covered my mouth with his. I pressed into him, feeling his hardness rub against me. A warm sensation flooded the pit of my stomach, then spread through the rest of me while goose bumps broke out, and his fingers tightened. He pushed up with his hips. “Fuck, babe,” he moaned, pulling away.