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“I am at your service,” Nero said. “What can I do for you?”
“I have a box of clothes for Craig to bring to the school in my trunk.”
Nero held his hand out. “Keys.”
She handed them to him. “He might need some help, dear. I can man the cake and make sure Albert doesn’t eat it all before everyone gets a slice.”
“Thanks, Odette.” I gave her the knife and followed Nero into the parking lot.
He opened the trunk and found a single small box. “Why do I feel like we were set up?” he asked.
“I don’t know why. I told her the kiss in the tasting room meant nothing.”
“You and I both know that’s a lie.”
Words stopped in my throat, and I stared at him.
“Char told me I should fight for you.” He pulled the trunk down, placed the box on top, and rested against the bumper. “But I don’t know how to do that. Not when you have a chance at being happy.”
“I don’t want you to fight for me.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to want me.”
“I do.”
I shook my head. “You don’t.”
“I literally just told you I did.”
And it should have been enough, but I knew my worth, and as much as I was head over heels in love with the man in front of me, I needed more than sex.
“You want me in your bed, and while it’s tempting, I want more. I want all of you, and maybe that makes me foolish or selfish, but I don’t want to settle.”
“And Damian gives you everything you want?”
My head tilted, and I inhaled before meeting his gaze again. “No, which is why I ended things with him.”
He blinked, then stared at me in what almost looked like confusion, but then that confusion dissipated as his eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“Because he wasn’t you.”
He stepped toward me, but I put my hand up. “I’m not naïve. I know you’re not going to open your arms and give me the fairytale I’ve dreamed about for half my life.”
“Lanes, I’m trying to tell you.” He stepped into me, and this time I didn’t stop him. His hand cupped my cheek, and I nuzzled into his palm, loving the heat that radiated from his touch. “I want to give all of it to you.”
“You say that now, because the words are easy. What happens in a year?” His body tensed at the mention of a timeline, but I didn’t stop. If anything, I needed to prove my point more than ever. “When you get bored with me and are craving a different body type? Craving something that is deviant and reckless?”
He shook his head. “The only body type I want is whatever body you’re in.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Then believe me.”
It killed me, but I stepped out of his touch, giving us much needed distance. “I need time.”
“Time for what?”
