“Nah. I’m over it. The more I think about it, the less likely it was that we would ever work out. In hindsight I can see that we never had that connection, you know?”
“I do. Like the connection between us?”
She blinked and looked away, not willing to put Tom in the relationship category. “So, what about you? You’re handsome, rich, successful, really good in bed—you’d think there’d be a line of beautiful women beating down your door.”
“Hardly. I mean, like you, I date people, but nothing serious. I’m just so busy with work. So, I guess you’re not the only woman who doesn’t like being second to my job.”
That made her pause. It was Friday, and Tom had been at the office after seven. Maybe he wasn’t so different from those men she’d dated before. But wrapped up in his arms, she didn’t want to think about that and she put the thought out of her head. “Do you normally put women behind the job?” she asked quietly.
He hesitated. “I want to tell you no, especially given what you just told me. But I guess I do.”
“Wow. This is quite a serious conversation.”
“Are you sorry you started it?”
“No.”
“Neither am I,” he assured her. “And what brought it on? Were you going to ask if I wanted to go steady?” he teased.
She laughed, thinking about how juvenile it sounded “I hadn’t meant to. But now that you bring it up... I won’t see anyone else, as long as you do the same.”
He pulled her on top of him, and her thighs straddled his hips. “Now why would I want to see anyone else when I have everything I need right here?”
Gemma thought about that. She was what he wanted now, but would his priorities shift once the newness of their relationship wore off? Would he eventually put the job ahead of her? While the thought troubled her, she wished she’d never brought it up. She wanted to get back to the warm, fuzzy, sensual cocoon they’d created on the floor of his apartment. The doorbell rang, and Gemma was grateful for the distraction. “Is that our pizza?”
“I think so. I guess I really do have everything I need now.” He stood, still naked. Gemma took the opportunity to admire the view, frowning when he pulled on his sweatpants. He walked out of the living room. She heard him open the door and speak to another person. The door closed again, and he returned holding the square pizza box.
“You know, I’m surprised,” he said.
“About what?”
“When I was in Miami, you brought me to that restaurant—we had that great seafood, remember?”
“I never forget good oysters,” she said.
“That wasn’t the only good thing that night.”
“Okay, so what? What are you surprised about?”
“New York is foodie heaven, and all you wanted to do was stay in and eat pizza.”
“Sometimes I like a quieter time.” She reached out and, grasping the waistband of his sweatpants, pulled lightly, dragging him back to the floor. “Sometimes I like cheese and pepperoni. And there’s nothing out there that beats this.”
“Are you talking about me or the pizza?”
She laughed and leaned in for a kiss before taking a large slice from the box. “Can’t it be both?”