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“So, what’s the problem?” He looked at me, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I thought you would be angry I spent so much.”
“Ryleigh, I probably make the cost of this watch every minute of the day. I don’t care if you want to spend money.”
“I was testing you,” I admitted, my voice softening.
“Why? I told you to spend whatever you’d like.” His tone was gentle but probing.
He sat on the couch next to me. The watch looked beautiful on his strong wrist and I was glad to have purchased it for him.
“So, I can go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue?” I asked, half-joking.
“Sure. Get used to spending money,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
“You spoil me,” I said, feeling a warm flutter in my chest.
“I’m just glad to have someone to spoil,” he replied, his expression sincere.
“Were you lonely before me?” I asked, suddenly serious.
“I was in denial before you. I kept thinking I was fulfilled by work. I wasn’t. It wasn’t until you that I realized I wasn’t living.”
“Even with all the social events and women on your arm?” I pressed, needing to understand.
“Once again, they were part of keeping me busy,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why haven’t we attended an event together?” I wondered aloud.
“Do you want to? You know I prefer to stay home and have you all to myself,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.
In that moment, I realized the depth of his feelings for me and the life we were beginning to build together.
"I’d like to go to at least one," I said, trying to keep my voice light.
Oliver's expression darkened slightly. "I do it for security reasons. I don’t want you to be exposed."
My stomach tightened, a knot of anxiety forming. What wasn't he telling me about the threats against my life?
"If it’s not safe, then forget it," I conceded.
"It’s safe as long as you listen to our security team," he assured me, his tone firm.
"I do," I insisted, but I could hear the defensiveness in my own voice.
"Sometimes you can be stubborn," he said, his eyes softening. "You still haven’t decided what you want to do with your apartment."
"I want to move in with you full-time, but I need to have space sometimes," I admitted.
"That would mean spending time away, and I hate that," he replied, a hint of frustration creeping in.
"I don’t mean sleeping somewhere else. I mean going out with friends," I clarified.
"Why can’t we go out together?" he asked, clearly not understanding.
"Because space is good. It doesn’t mean I love you any less," I explained gently.
"I hope not," he said, though there was a vulnerability in his eyes that tugged at my heart.
