Page 44 of Loving You

“I’m pretty sure what I felt around you was that I… wanted you,” I admitted. “All that time, I think I just didn’t recognize it because it seemed so insane. Eric, before, whenever a man touched me—Fuck. I’m sorry.”

He squeezed my hand again. “Go on.”

“Whenever a man touched me before, I would flinch. It freaked me out. I’m clearly very personable with my male friends—like your brothers, for example. And I can flirt like a champ. But I never wanted to date again because dating makes touching a lot different.”

“Different,” he repeated, processing.

“Yeah. After the way Cliff’s touches went from sweet to painful and I hadn’t seen it coming, I knew I couldn’t go through that again. Except…”

I paused, not sure if this next part would help him understand or make me seem like a total weirdo. “You probably won’t remember this, but a couple of years ago I wore these insane heels that I never should have bought because they were way too high, but they were on sale and—not the point. I almost fell on my damn face right in front of you, and you caught me.”

I reached up and trailed my hand along my side where Eric’s strong grip had landed when he’d reached out to steady me just in time. It’d been such a brief contact, such a simple, reflexive thing on his part.

And yet…

His gaze followed the motion of my hand, and he blew out a short breath. “I remember.”

I snorted. “Sure you do.”

“I do.” He caught my eye, seeming intent to hold my gaze until he was sure I knew he was serious. “Keep going.”

“I guess I thought it annoyed me that feeling your hands on me didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was a first. A first sincebefore.Plus, you were kind of a dick afterwards, and you said something snotty about my fabulous shoes.”

He tucked his lips in to hide a smile, but I could see a hefty helping of pain and dark fury swirling in his eyes. “I can see how that would be annoying.”

I snorted again.

“Also,” he went on, looking at the fancy ceiling fan I’d stared at for hours the past few nights, “for what it’s worth, I was kind of a dick to you because it annoyedmethat I wanted to scoop you up and take you against a wall even though I genuinely thought I didn’t like you.” He looked at me with a quirked brow. “Oryour stupidly high, yet sexy-as-hell shoes. Do you still have those, by the way?”

A choked laugh escaped me, and I reached out to push his shoulder. But my hand lingered on the hard muscle beneath his shirt, and I trailed my fingers down his upper arm, not meeting his eyes. “It annoys me to think how much I would have loved that. And yes, yes I do.”

He let out a low growl as he followed my gaze to the closet, then let go of my hand and put his finger under my chin to return my eyes to his. The heat I saw there was unmistakable, but it was controlled.

And that made it even hotter.

“I’d tell you to kiss me right now, or maybe to go grab those damn shoes—and you’dlikeit—but instead…” He let his gaze sweep down to my lips for a second before sliding back up again. “We need to keep talking. We need to get everything settled before this goes any further.”

I pouted, making him laugh. It was a low, husky sound that I swore I’d hear in my dreams tonight. “What more do you want to know?”

“Many things, but let’s go back to the person you pretended to be. None of your friends know the real you, or what happened to you, and now I’m trying to figure out who you are and what you’re comfortable with.”

His need to get to know the real me, and him wanting to understand what I’d be comfortable with felt like a weighted blanket settling over my shoulders.

I’d never felt safer.

Even all his fancy-schmancy security stuff paled in comparison to the truth in his eyes, and it took my breath away.

“Or… we can take that slow, if you want,” he said when I didn’t speak for a moment. “We’ve said a lot, and I’m a lot clearer on things than I was before I got home. So, if you want to leave it here for now—”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “Ah, come on, Mr. Bossypants. Don’t go soft on me now, I’ll think you pity me or something.”

For a second, he just stared at me, then he laughed.

For the second time in as many minutes, this serious stick-in-the-mud man was laughing. Still low, still husky, still just as controlled as the rest of him.

But it was beautiful.

He glanced over and caught me gaping at him. “What?”

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