Page 44 of My Silver Fox Savior

“No,” he snarls. “Before I saw you. You’ve made me feel alive.”

“Don’t,” I whisper.

“Don’t tell you how perfect you are?”

“Every time you say something like that, it’s like a little shot of dopamine right in my brain.”

“Dopamine’s the pleasure chemical, right? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No, because pleasure makes it hard to think clearly.”

He laughs ruefully, looking me up and down. “You don’t have to tell me that.” He stops smiling when he sees I’m being serious. “I know how it sounds, but it’s true. I saw you, and it was, like you said, a shot of dopamine … or twenty.”

“You’re not tricking me?” I murmur. “You’re not just saying what you think I want to hear?”

“I wouldn’t fucking do that,” he growls. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to curse at you, but hell, it just makes me sick, even the idea of tricking you like that. You don’t deserve it. You’re too …” He trails off when he realizes he’s about to go into another complimenting spree. “I’m not.”

“Were you telling the truth about not dating?”

“I told you—autopilot. I’ve been a logical, cold, shameless, capitalist killer until you.”

Another shiver moves through me. I squeeze my legs together under the table, relieved he can’t see because there’s so much inside me that’s telling me to leap across the table, grab him, and kiss him. This time, go further than we did last night.

“I should get going after this,” I say, nodding to the pizza. “Mom’s probably wondering where I am.”

He nods, picking up another slice.

We eat without talking for a few minutes. I’m surprised by how comfortable it feels. It almost gives me long-term couple vibes, but then I’m hit with the cold fact that we can never have that. Fantasizing about it is useless, even masochistic.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “You can’t know that.”

“They have something to do with The Row?”

“Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?” he says.

“There isn’t a case there, is there?” I go on. “What are you going to get them on? Will you get the parents to testify that their kids are being groomed?”

He runs his hand through his hair. “Lily, I’m not telling you a damn thing, but let’s just say this. Damon made a mistake pushing a man who has nothing to lose.”

“What does that mean?” I snap, horrible images flashing across my mind. “What are you going to do?”

“I can’t tell you,” he snarls, “but I know one thing. I won’t let them hurt those kids.”

“But—”

“You need to stop asking,” he cuts me off. “What good can it do, Lily? This is out of your hands now. If you’re even a small part of this, you and Carter will lose your jobs, right?” I reluctantly nod. “So leave it alone. Anyway, it’s not like we’re?—”

“Just because we’re not going toget marriedone day, it doesn’t mean I can’t care,” I hiss. “Just because you’re going to …” Tears abruptly spring to my eyes. It must be the quickest I’ve ever gone from dry-eyed to crying. I wipe angrily at my face. “Just because you’re ill, it doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you.”

He reaches across the table and takes my hand. Until now, we’ve both been careful not to touch each other. We know that any contact is a risk of us never letting go. He holds my hand, smoothing his thumb over my knuckles.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he says.

I laugh away a sob. “That’s just silly. How can you say that?”

“Your life is going to be okay … better than okay. You’re going to make such a difference.”

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