“Me too.” I held up her hand and kissed her palm. While closing my eyes, I breathed in the sweet scent of her lotion and her smooth, warm skin. Every cell in my body wanted her. I cradled her hand between my own, trying not to give in to temptation. When I opened my eyes, Lanie’s were waiting to catch my gaze. Her eyes came with an invitation to do what we had both been dancing around the past several days. Maybe even weeks. As much as I wanted to take her into my arms and taste her lips, I couldn’t. Not here in her bed, where we would not only be tempting fate but begging fate to unleash every desire. No, first I had to make something of myself. Then, if Lanie’s invitation still stood, I would take her up on it. All of it.

“I should let you get back to sleep,” I forced myself to say.

For a moment, her face fell as if I’d hurt her, but then she smiled. “Thank you.”

I cocked my head. “For what?”

“Being a gentleman.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what was running through my mind right now,” I assured her.

“I think I know. I’m thinking the same things. Which makes you even more of a gentleman in my mind for not acting on it, especially when I would let you.”

I gripped her hand, steeling myself. Her silky voice and permission were going to be my undoing. “Lanie,” her name fell, strangled, out of my mouth as I willed myself to be the gentleman she accused me of being.

She rolled to her side and delicately grazed my cheek with her free hand. The rough layer of stubble only added to the sensation. “Good night, Parker. Sweet dreams.”

They would be the sweetest because I knew she would be the star of them. “Good night, Lanie.” I dropped her hand and stood, needing to leave before there was no resisting her.

“I need that forehead kiss.” She wrapped every word that escaped her lips in seduction.

Even though I knew I was asking for trouble, I would not deny her request. I bent down and let my lips rest on her fevered brow. It wasn’t hot from illness, but from what stirred between us. My hands wove through her hair as if holding on to the last bits of my willpower. “You are incredible,” I spoke against her skin, wishing to kiss every inch.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

I chuckled and tore myself away from her. “I need to go.”

She nodded, curling into herself, aching for more as much as I did.

In what seemed like an impossible task, I turned and rushed away, feeling the need for an ice bath. But duty called. I had yet to do my weekly video diary. Once on the other side of her closed door, I could finally breathe. Lanie was going to be the life and death of me. What a way to go, I thought as I jogged over to my room, putting as much distance as I could between us. Ridiculously, I locked my door as if that would stop us. If she knocked now, it would be game over.

I lowered myself into the desk chair, breathing as if I’d just run a marathon. “Hold it together,” I told myself while logging into the portal. I hurried to pull up the questionnaire and click record, not caring about how much I hated the intrusion into my life.

“Question one: Rate your comfort level with Lanie, ten being the highest level of comfort and one being the lowest level of comfort. How much has it changed since the start of this experiment?” I laughed out loud at the ironic question. The woman made me so uncomfortable. She had from the beginning. It wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, it was exactly what I needed. “No question about it. One across the board. Lanie isn’t a woman you should get comfortable around.” She deserved you to be on edge, always knowing it was a privilege to be with her and not a right.

“Question two: Is Lanie someone you would have noticed in passing? Who wouldn’t notice Lanie?”

“Question three: If you met Lanie in passing, is she someone you would have approached? Absolutely not.” Thankfully, I didn’t meet her in passing. It would have been my loss.

“Question four: How would you explain the current mood in the house?” My body was still shaking like a live wire, if that said anything. “Hot” was the only word I could articulate. So damn hot.

“Question five: How would you describe your communication? A. In depth. B. Polite. C. Combative. D. Not communicating. A,” I responded quickly. But I knew I needed to be more open with Lanie. It was like she was just waiting for me to jump into the deep end with her and swim a few laps. I wanted to, but it scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t sure if I remembered how to swim.

“Question six: Are you satisfied with your level of communication?” I looked up to the ceiling as if the answer were there. “No, but that’s on me,” I admitted.

Wondering how to be more open with Lanie, I looked back at the screen to see the researchers’ favorite topic. “Question seven: Rate your level of intimacy with Lanie in each of the following categories: emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical, ten being the highest and one being the lowest. I see you’re asking more research-based questions finally,” I berated them while stalling. Intimacy wasn’t my strong suit right now. If I wanted to be with Lanie, that was going to have to change.

“Emotional,” I breathed out. “I would say a five, but only because I’m holding back.” I felt the need to defend Lanie. Not that the researchers cared, but I did. “Mentally, we are a ten.” I thought about the past week. Lanie and I would be excellent business partners. Not sure I ever wanted to mix business with pleasure again, but Lanie had a mind for marketing. Add in her sheer tenacity and she would be a behemoth in any industry. “Spiritual,” I went down the line. “I’m not exactly a spiritual guy, but I respect Lanie’s faith and welcome any discussion on the matter, so I guess we’re at an eight or nine.”

I paused before answering the last question. It felt like the elephant in the house—ever present and just waiting for us to acknowledge it and welcome it in. Sure, we’d touched and teased the line. But to discuss it with others and rate it felt dishonorable. “If you’re asking Lanie the same questions, you’re going to have to get her take on this. It’s not for me to say. To do so feels wrong, like a betrayal of our emotional intimacy.”

“Question eight: How would you rate your experience so far?” I smiled without thinking. “Good.” It was actually better than good, but that was between Lanie and me.

MY HEAD TWISTED AND TURNED at every corner as we walked through the expo early Friday morning, trying to get the lay of the land and find our booth before we hauled in our stuff. Though it was a few hours before the doors opened, the gamers’ paradise was alive with the electrifying hum of gaming consoles and neon lights flashing in a kaleidoscope of colors. It was like an electronics store on steroids. Add in the robots and people dressed as characters from popular games, and it was going to be nothing like I had ever experienced before.

I grabbed Parker’s hand, feeling out of my element, albeit excited to see all our plans come to life. Even with so much riding on this weekend, I felt hopeful.

He wrapped his fingers around mine and held on like he planned to for a long time. “You ready for this?”