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Which, fine, he does.But still.

He discards the toothbrush, steps into the shower, under the spray and then turns to me, one brow raised, hand extended like an invitation I can’t quite refuse.

“Angel.”

I hesitate.Then I mutter, “This is crazy.”

“Yeah,” he agrees.“But it’s our kind of crazy.”

And God help me, I drop the sheet and step into the shower.

Chapter18

Ego

Of course I’m smiling.Grinning like a jackass in love.Because I am.

Fully, completely, without a single fucking doubt.

We got back to Jersey on Sunday.

And I stayed the night at Sabrina’s cute little townhouse, curled up beside her in a bed that’s definitely too small for both of us.

She sprawled across me like a human blanket, her thigh tossed over mine, her hair tickling my chin, her soft little snores making my heart do this weird thing I can only describe ashappy.

Yeah, I’m happy.

And I haven’t been happy in a long goddamn time.

I stayed again Monday.And Tuesday.And Wednesday.

Her place is charming, if tiny.Not enough room for both of us—not with the life I plan to build.

So I’m already talking to a realtor.

Discreet off-market properties only.I want a place with space.

A backyard.

Maybe a clawfoot tub so she can soak in after a long day of wrangling tiny humans.

Hell, maybe even a fireplace.

Something cozy.

Safe.

Something hers and mine.

Ours.

Because my intention is clear.

I'm going to propose.

Yeah, it’s fast.So what?

I’ve always been decisive.