“I don’t share, beautiful.” His voice was pure sex when he leaned into me and whispered right next to my ear. He kissed me hard, almost desperate, taking my breath away.

I broke the kiss, gazed into his eyes I loved so much, and whispered against his lips. “Neither do I.”

He held my eyes, as if looking for confirmation on my face. He must have been satisfied, because he stated, “Then we are in agreement, beautiful.”

He gave me a peck on the cheek and asked, “So is this the same event that Betty wanted to hook you up with someone?”

I nodded a bit uncomfortable. Betty really had some crazy ideas.

“Would you like to come?” I asked instead, a bit hesitant. “With me? Might be just what you need to see what real parties are all about?” I added jokingly.

He gently bit my earlobe. “I think I will come. I have to make sure nobody touches you.”

“Really?” I exclaimed excitedly. “With me?”

He laughed. “Yes, with you, and only with you.”

“That’s wonderful. I won’t be a third wheel for a change, which I hate. Rick is great, really, but I know it must be a pain for him to worry about me and Betty at the same time. Of course, I would prefer if she wouldn't be doing her last hurrah at a nightclub of all places.”

My mood lifted up a few notches and I kissed him on the cheek. The front door bell had me wondering who it could be now.

“It’s like Grand Central station here today,” I mumbled softly.

“It’s probably the window guy,” Kristoff answered. “You can stay here and I’ll take care of him. Ok?”

I nodded. Kristoff really was the type of a guy that takes care of everything. And I was totally on board with that. I didn’t want to move from my spot. My whole adult life I’d been independent and in some aspects I liked that Kristoff took care of things. Maybe if we both dealt with our scars from the past, we could end up together in a happier and better place.

By lunchtime, the broken window was fixed, and I fixed us some quick lunch.

“I could get used to you fixing my meals,” he said smiling.

I snorted. “You can try but you won’t succeed because I avoid cooking like a plague.”

As he took the first bite of the sandwich, he glanced at his expensive watch.

“Do you have to go?” I nibbled on a cucumber feeling a bit queasy.

He finished chewing his food before answering. “No, just trying to plan the timeframe for running back home to take a shower and making it to your nightclub.”

“We have plenty of time,” I answered. “We are not going out till after ten.”

“Okay then how about you pack a bag and get ready at my place?” he suggested. “We can have dinner, and then we’ll meet them at the nightclub. After the club, spend the weekend with me. You can take me hiking like you promised.”

I slightly hesitated before I answered. “You are right. I did promise that.”

“But?”

“No but,” I said. “That sounds like a good plan. But don’t you think we should talk about the contract? I don’t want to pretend.”

I cut myself off. I didn’t want to ruin this little moment but I also didn’t want to pretend that this lingering topic did not exist. Truth is, we didn't work out everything. The discussion about the words he used and the comparison between our pasts was only part of the problem... the other was the dreaded contract.

“My need for the contract is the result of my past experience during my marriage.” Kristoff stopped all my whirling thoughts. “It has less to do with you and more to do with the fucked up circumstances during my marriage.”

That made me pause and watch him pensively. Would I give him peace of mind if I signed it? Was it simple as that? But every part of me objected at the idea of signing it.

“Is the contract negotiable?” I couldn’t believe the words came out of my mouth. Maybe, just maybe, we could find a middle ground that would make us both happy.

“Maybe,” he replied vaguely. “For now, I want your promise.”