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"I noticed. I'm here."

"I know." Her mouth curved, the real smile, the one with the dimple. "That's the part I keep having to remind myself."

I couldn't help it. I pulled her down against my chest and wrapped both arms around her and held on. Hard. Like she was the most precious gift anyone had ever put in my hands, because she was, and I'd already dropped her once.

She made a startled, muffled sound into my henley, and then she laughed, and then she stopped laughing and just held on back.

"I thought I was never going to get to do this again," I said into the satin. My voice wasn't steady. "Every night for three weeks. I thought I was never going to hold you again."

"You're holding me now."

"I know." I pressed my mouth to the top of her head. "I'm not letting go."

"I'm not asking you to."

We stayed like that until my heart stopped trying to break out of my ribs.

Then she pushed up again, just far enough to kiss me.

It wasn't tentative. She kissed me like she knew exactly what she was doing and had decided to do it, her hand sliding from my jaw to the back of my neck, and I felt the warmth of her and the certainty of her, and I kissed her back the same way.

When she pulled back, her eyes were dark.

"I need to say a few words first," she said.

"Okay."

"Last time. In your house." She said it quietly. It wasn't an accusation. She was setting a fact down between us. "You took care of me. You were careful and generous, and you gave me everything I asked for." She held my gaze. "And the whole time, you had one hand on the door."

I didn't answer. She was right.

"I know why," she said. "I'm not angry about it. But I need you to hear me. I'm not going anywhere, Cam. There's no door anymore. There's no clock." She leaned down until I could feel her breath on my lips. "So don't hold back tonight. Don't manage yourself. I want all of you." Her eyes smoldered. "I can take it."

The locked room in my chest did what it had never done.

It opened.

"You understand what you're asking," I said.

"I know exactly what I'm asking." Her mouth curved into a smile. "I've had three hours to think about it."

I looked at her for one long moment. Then I took her chin in my hand and held it, firmly, the way I'd held it against my front door three weeks ago.

"Then we do it right," I said. "Word?"

"Basketball."

"And if you can't say it?"

She reached down and tapped three times on my thigh.

"Anything different from last time? Anything you don't want?"

She thought about it, really thought about it, which I loved her for. "No belt tonight," she said. "Not because I didn't love it. I just want your hands. Only your hands."

My throat closed around that.

"Okay," I said. "Anything else?"