“But you did it. Look what you accomplished.”
I continued to glare at him, not sure I was ever going toforgive him.
“I feel like a mess,” I admitted, showing him how badly my hands were still shaking.
He took them into his, his touch easing the adrenaline in me. “You did good.”
I refused to stop glaring at him.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” he suggested, giving me a smile that made me weak.
“Only on the condition you’re driving home,” I insisted, knowing I’d had enough of driving for the night.
I know I would have to keep at it but I had done enough today. Tomorrow was another day.
He nodded. “Sure.” He put his arm around me and walked me into the restaurant.
“I have another surprise for you when we get back to your apartment,” he murmured as the waiter led us to a table.
“I don’t think I like your surprises anymore.” If the first one was anything to go by.
“You’ll like this one, I promise.” He pulled out my chair and I sat down, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Unless it’s you naked in my bed, then I don’t want it,” I whispered in a hushed tone, very aware we were in a crowded restaurant.
“I’ve turned you into a sex-craved kitten, haven’t I?” He sat down, leaning closer to take my hands. When he touched me, it was electric.
“Uh huh.” I had never been that into sex but with him I couldn’t seem to get enough. He was my addiction. “If you weren’t so good at it I wouldn’t be in the predicament I’m in.” I ached just thinking about it.
His dark eyes held mine. “I like that you need me.”
That made me feel all warm and fuzzy, because I did—in ways that made me blush.
When he drove back to the apartment, I was thinking of allthe naughty things I wanted to do to him. He was quiet as he drove, and I would look at him through the corner of my eye every now and then. There was something fundamentally different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Something had changed from the day I had told him I loved him. Did knowing how I felt about him put more pressure on him emotionally?
It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I wanted the knowledge to make him happy, not stress him out. Maybe this was his way of dealing with it. How could I expect him to behave normally when he had two parents who were incapable of loving him?
It brought my thoughts back to what he had said when he had believed I had been asleep. He was scared something was going to scare me off, but I still had no idea what.
I was deep in thought when we arrived back at my place.
He parked the car and helped me out, but instead of leading me back to my apartment, he pulled my hand a few parking spaces down. Then I noticed a new car with a bright red ribbon on the hood.
We stopped and he turned to me. “It’s yours.” I was stunned, my mouth falling open as he handed me the car keys. I didn’t know what make it was, but it was expensive.
I should have been happy but I wasn’t.
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. My mouth opened and closed as he watched me.
“I know you didn’t replace your car and I wanted to do something to help,” he explained. He was excited and smiling, while I was more horrified than anything else. “Helping you get back behind the wheel was the first part, and this” —he turned to face me— “is the second part.”
My hand gripped the keys so hard I thought it might break the skin. I wanted to say thank you and be touched by his thoughtfulness, but this wasn’t what I wanted from him. Moneyand things weren’t important to me. I understood his reason for doing this, but I couldn’t accept it.
“You don’t like it?” he asked when I didn’t look as excited as he had expected.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s too much,” I said, trying to find a balance in letting him down.