Page 98 of Can't Get Enough

He takes my hands between his and looks into my eyes—itfeelslike he looks into my soul. “My life won’t be measured just in what I did, but who I did it with. Who I chose to be in friendship with. Inrelationship with. I think that’s where real contentment is found, and I think I could find it with you.”

His words are a direct hit to my resistance, and I pull away from his touch, though my whole body begs me to lean into it.

“You know I want to get into television,” I tell him, my voice carrying a note of desperation. “You’re asking me to jeopardize my chance and Chapel’s chance to get this show made for you?”

“No, I’m saying I don’t believe it would jeopardize your chances, but if Zere trips, we find another way. And it wouldn’t be for me. It would be for us.”

“Oh, butusis a trick men play on trusting women.” I stand and whirl on him, and the smell of roses, sweet mere moments ago, is suddenly cloying, choking. “When the rubber meets the road, it’shim, notthem.You, notus.”

“I can’t blame you for feeling that way, for assuming that’s how I would be because most men are. Most womendosacrifice disproportionately in their relationships with men. We have to guard against that. I’ll look after you.”

“I don’t need you to buy me a career. I have one.” I make my point with a hand slicing through the air. “I have my own money and can take care of myself.”

“I’d like for us to take care of each other. If we’re together, we’re together. We help each other. We have each other’s backs. Don’t let the possibility that Zere wouldn’t approve keep us from even trying.”

“But I—”

“You don’t want a man holding your happiness hostage, putting his needs over yours, but isn’t that what Zere would be doing if she tried to stop you from seeing me if that’s what you want?”

He stands, reaches for me, cups my face; the look he gives me somehow searching and knowing at the same time.

“Is that what you want, Hen? AmIwhat you want? Because I want you and the only thing that will stop me from having you… is you. Not Zere or anyone else.”

“You said you’re here to negotiate our future.” I struggle to swallow whatever is rising in my throat. I suspect it might be hope. “What are you offering and what do you need? Where’s your list of demands?”

“I don’t have a list. I have one thing.”

“One thing?” I frown. “What is it?”

“Let’s be good to each other.”

“That’s it?” I ask, incredulity stretching my expression.

“That’s everything because that means I’m good to you and you’re good to me. Being good to you means wanting what’s best for you. If there is an upper hand, baby, I don’t want it. I know I’m asking you to take a big risk, but all I can do is promise that I’ll never try to hurt you and I’ll do everything to protect you. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you don’t regret choosing me and I’ll protect your dreams as fiercely as I chase my own.”

He says it like a vow, not like for a wedding, but sincerely. Like he means it. Like he understands what’s at stake. No man in the last two decades has tempted me to do this. Not that I haven’t dated and even had a few committed relationships over the years, but I always walked away before it felt like this. Hell, it’sneverfelt like this.

I revisit that rare loneliness at game night. The sense of everyone paired off and belonging somewhere andtosomeone. Am I fine on my own? I really am. I mostly always have been.

But would I like to share this amazing life I’ve created for myself with someone else? Someone truly worthy of my trust?

Damn right I would.

I’ve always known there is power in making your own way, but maybe when you find the right person, there is joy in sharing it.This manis right.

“Okay.”

After so much wrestling and denying and running, my word is an easy capitulation. It’s hard-won, though, this realization that I don’t want to defer my chance at joy for ambition, that my independence doesn’t have to mean isolation.

“Okay?” Surprise streaks across his face. “Did you say okay?”

“After all that, I agree and you don’t believe me?” I laugh and sit back down on the couch, tugging him to sit beside me.

“I believe you, but what made you change your mind? Or rather what made you choose me?”

“I’ve been wary of commitment because I’ve always seen women put their partners’ desires and goals before their own.” I shrug. “I even saw it with my own parents in some ways. I saw it with friends from college who had ambitions, but lost sight of that when they married. They compromised once they had a husband and a family.”

“Is that why you don’t want kids?”

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