Page 88 of Yours, Forever

His arms were tense under my hands. They softened, the melting wave up to his shoulders, then his face. Every one of my heartbeats called for him.

He snaked his arms around me, the motion unstudied for once, like he'd fought it and had lost the battle. For a man so careful and trained to remain slightly unreachable, it was a moment of vulnerability.

"Eva." He squeezed me.

Still in the door frame, I squeezed him back. I rubbed my face on his shoulder, taking in his smell, so familiar by now and just as hypnotic.

He kissed my neck and burrowed into it.

"Fuck my heart," I said. "If it breaks, so be it."

Chapter 25

Max

Time stopped. I anchoredmyself in the warmth of her embrace.

Yes, she had said the words that echoed in my ear. She was willing to risk her heart for me. Not all of it, but she wouldn't ask all of mine, either.

It made it a bit better, to know I wasn't sharing a piece of my heart. The part that hoped that, whatever happened next, it might help her find a way to love me.

She saw me. Could she love me?

How I wanted her to love me.

This feeling in my chest, expansive and explosive— it crested with her in my arms. I could love her, too. Maybe I already did.

It terrified me.

She pulled back and held my head in her hands. "We have months and months together ahead of us. Take me. Hold me. We're alone here. We can find company in each other."

She must have mistaken my pause to be hesitation.

"Eva..."

"Do you want me?"

"How could you ask? Don't you know the answer?"

"Do you know that I want you, too?"

I pressed my lips together, struggling with my reply. Intuition, hope, fear; they interlocked inside, until I didn't know noise from truth.

"How do you want me?" I whispered.

She bit her lip. Her hands fell to my neck, to the top of my chest. Her fingers clung from the collar of my shirt, as if hanging on for dear life from me would give her the courage she needed.

A single nod signaled her decision.

Her eyes stilled on me. "You talk about ours being an old-school marriage. Back when most weddings were a business arrangement, people had sex that meant little emotionally. But I like you. I respect you. I care about you. It may not be love for us, but it can be fun, and friendship, and warmth, and affection. So if you want me, we'll have sex as part of our arrangement— an addendum to the contract. We promised to be monogamous, anyway."

Her words hurt. Here I was, pining for her love, and she offered me her body.

I wanted her company, her warmth. Her affection. Of course I yearned for her body. But it was so little in comparison.

Could it be enough for now?

She gazed at me with intense eyes and furrowed brows.