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“What the hell?” she snapped, slamming the door behind me. She threw her hands up, exasperated. “Is there an emergency?”

I tried to speak. Paused.

Tried to form a sentence. Failed.

The room stretched silent, thick with tension.

It felt like one of those cheesy rom-com moments—where time slows, the background blurs, and suddenly, nothing else exists but the two of you.

“Colton?” she said, her irritation shifting into something softer—something worried.

I exhaled.

“Stay.”

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

I glanced toward the bed. Her suitcase lay open, half-packed on the floor next to it, mocking me.

Bringing my gaze back to her, I said it again.

“Stay.”

Eleanor huffed, popping a hip out in that infuriating way I’d come to crave. The sass. The attitude. The way she put me in my place every fucking time.

“I heard you the first time,” she said, folding her arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I want you, Eleanor,” I said, voice steady, determined. “To stay here. With me. Don’t go back to the city.”

Her chest rose with a deep breath, her head tipping back as she stared at the ceiling like she was praying for patience.

Then, after a long pause, she met my gaze again, something shifting in her eyes, worry melting into sadness.

“You know I can’t,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “We both knew this was going to end sooner or later.”

I took a step forward.

She took a step back.

“Why?” I pressed, my heart pounding. “Give me a good reason why.”

“I have a life back in New York. I have a business. Friends.”

Another step.

She countered it.

“I can’t give up everything for a man I’ve known for eight weeks.”

Her words hit—sharp, cutting straight through my ribs, exposing the rawest parts of me. Because I’d give up anything for the woman who stood before me.

“I love you, Eleanor.” My voice cracked with the weight of my confession. “I don’t care if it’s been eight weeks or eight days—I know what this is. I know what you mean to me.” I knew what it was because I’d never experienced an intensity like this before, it was the only explanation.

She swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the door, like she was looking for an out.

I wouldn’t let her run.

“Then we do distance,” I pleaded. “I’ll come to you. I’ll fly you out here when work is light. We’ll make it work.”