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“I really like dancing with you.”
He leans down, inhaling the top of my head and unfurling warmth through my shoulders. “I can’t remember the last time I danced. Prom, maybe?”
“I really like that you saved yourself for me.” Squirming around, I want to look at him.
“Me, too.” He’s over me, smiling down at me now, and my breath catches.
Oh my God, I love him.
Blinking away from his gaze, I lift my arms and pull him down into a hug, hiding my face in his neck while I regain my bearings. While I get my head on straight. Love? Seriously?
Even if he is really,reallygood in bed, how would I even know? He’s the first man I’ve ever been with… or kissed… or followed into his bedroom practically begging for him to take me.
Exhaling a groan, he gives me a little nudge. “What are you thinking?”
“I kind of threw myself at you.”
A noise rumbles in his throat, almost like a laugh. “You knew what you wanted.”
“Are you laughing?” Leaning back, I cut my eyes up at him. “I saidplease. I stripped naked for you. It was so embarrassing.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I was holding on by a thread every time. You have no idea how hard it was to walk away from you. If you hadn’t been a virgin?—”
“You didn’t want to sleep with me because I was a virgin?”
“Correction. I didn’t want to fuck you against a wall or ona massage table because you were a virgin. Now, however, all bets are off.”
I exhale a little squeal, which makes him really laugh, which makes me stretch higher in the bed to kiss him. His large hands slide warmly down my back, and I sigh.
“What makes you so good?”
“Hell, Rachel, I’m not good.”
“But you are.” I trace my nails up his broad shoulders. “Not good like boring. Good like you see someone needing help and you help them. Or you see a boy disturbed by noise or too much wind, and you put the doors back on your Jeep or you take him outside to play pool where it’s quieter.”
My eyes heat. Of course, I love him. He’s sexy and broody and so fuckinggood.
Exhaling heavily, he watches the ceiling fan moving slowly above us as he traces a finger over my arm. “My parents, maybe?”
“Oh, man,” I exhale a groan. “My parents did nothing but fight the entire time I lived at home. I don’t know when they put down their weapons long enough to create Edward, but from the way my mother acted, it was the worst thing that could’ve happened to her.”
His arms tighten around me. “I’m sorry for that.”
“When Edward was diagnosed, people tried to say it was my mother’s fault. They never even considered what a jerk my dad was.”
“People say a lot of stupid shit.”
“My dad was the reason I always dreamed of coming here.” My voice gets a little softer, a little more dreamy. “He used to talk about this place like it was heaven. He loved it here.”
I can’t finish that thought, remembering how much I hung on his words as a little girl. It wasn’t until I was older that I knew who he really was—a con man, a fake friend, adeceiver. If there was a way to make a fast dollar in any situation, he was on it.
If the dollar disappeared, so did he.
Zane’s hand slides down my back, and I cuddle closer to his side.
In one of her more lucid moments, my mom told me I had the power to make a new path, to break with tradition. She told me I could marry a man who was nothing like my father.
Hell, she said I could marry a woman or not get married at all.
