Yes, I still want an answer in regard to that particular fiasco.

“I shouldn’t,” I whisper.

“Please.” He clears his throat. “Nothing will happen. I promise.”

I close my eyes, my thoughts and my wants conflicted. I’m at war with myself and I hate it. Maybe I want something to happen. Maybe I want to have outrageous, dirty, mind-blowing sex with Drew Callahan. But his words, his gentlemanly ways might overrule him. The guy is downright chivalrous.

I really don’t want chivalry tonight. I want comfort. Passion. I crave what Drew can give me. Delicious hot kisses, unbelievable pleasure…

“We can talk.” He reaches out and settles his hand on my arm. His palm is warm, his fingers slightly rough as they stroke my skin, and instantly my body reacts. I’m all tingly and my heart rate has kicked up. I think of how Colin touched me earlier and nothing happened.

I think of how Drew merely looks at me and I immediately want to shed my clothes and bare my very soul to him.

“Talk about what?”

“I need to tell you what’s…what’s going on.” He squeezes my arm and I squeeze my eyes shut, overwhelmed with sensation. God, his touch feels so good. “I need to apologize for the shitty way I treated you.”

An apology is a start in the positive direction. I might be fooling myself but I want to hear what he has to say. I need an explanation. “Okay. I’d love to hear an apology from you.”

“Are you going to make me say it now?”

“For the first one, yes.” I nod.

“There’s going to be more than one?”

I glance in his direction to see he’s teasing me. And it’s sort of cute, the way he’s looking at me, the smile on his face. “Definitely,” I say with another nod. “I want the first one now. Before we leave the truck.”

He schools his expression, looking incredibly solemn and serious. “Fable. I’m sorry.” He lifts my hand and brushes a kiss across my knuckles.

His mouth on my skin leaves me weak-kneed and I’m not even standing. The playful way he’s acting doesn’t help matters either. I need to remember he’s drunk. He’s not in the right state of mind.

“Now, come inside with me. I won’t try anything, I promise.” He makes an X at the center of his chest with his index finger. “Scout’s honor.”

“Were you really a scout?”

“No.” He smiles. “But you can trust me.”

I know I can. I both want him to give me space so I can absorb everything that’s happened tonight and I also want him all over me. I’m confused.

This is what he does to me every time we’re together.

We get out of the truck and I follow him across the parking lot without protest. Let him guide me to his front door without a word, though I can feel his presence behind me. I inhale sharply when he sets his hand low on my back to steer me in the right direction.

He doesn’t remove his hand either until we get to the front door. Like he needs that connection.

I need it too.

When he unlocks the door, he indicates for me to walk in first and I enter his quiet, dark apartment. He flicks on a light, revealing a room devoid of anything beyond a couch, a matching chair and a flat-screen TV. There are no pictures, no knickknacks, no mess. Nothing beyond the basic essentials.

The room lacks warmth. Like no one real lives here. It reminds me of the Drew I first met. That version felt nothing, acted like nothing affected him. He’d been an emotionless shell of a human being.

I like to think I changed him in a matter of days. I taught him to feel. To open up and deal with his emotions, his wants and his needs. That my influence taught him it might be okay to be human again.

Turning to face him, I study his expression. His eyes are bleary, his hair is mussed and his cheeks are pale. He looks tired and a little loopy. Yet again, I want to touch him. Touch his bristly cheek, trace his expressive mouth with my finger…

“Do you want to talk?”

His question startles me. He doesn’t look like he wants to talk. More like he probably wants to collapse in bed. “Do you?”

“There are things I should say to you, yeah. But I’m drunk and I’ll probably mess it up somehow.” His voice is soft and he runs his palm across his cheek, doing the very thing I wanted to do only moments before.

My hands literally itch to reach out and touch him.

“Maybe we should sleep on it first.” I can’t face everything yet. My mind is working on overtime and I need to quiet it. Plus, I’m scared at what he might say. What if I don’t want to hear his explanations? What if he’s only being kind tonight and wants to let me down gently?

But then I remember his jealousy over Colin. The way he looked at me. How he kissed me, how his arms felt around me.

Drew still wants me. I know it. I still want him. Being with him tonight would most likely be a mistake. Am I strong enough to resist him?

Is he strong enough to resist me? The pull between us is there, like an invisible thread that draws us closer and closer when we’re in the same room together.

“Can I sleep on your couch?” I wave my hand in the couch’s direction. It’s big and looks comfortable enough.

He shakes his head with a grimace. “No way. I’ll take the couch. You can have my bed.”

Oh, God. I can’t take his bed. It’ll smell like him. My imagination will run wild the moment I touch the mattress, the second my head hits his pillow. It’s been too long since we’ve been together and having him so close, I want to launch myself at him and never, ever let go.

“I’d rather have the couch.” My voice is shaky and I breathe deep, trying to control my emotions, but I’m ragged. Completely undone. A tear sneaks down my cheek and I sniff. I hate crying. I rarely do it.

“Fable.” His deep voice is so low, it rumbles through me and I bend my head. I don’t want him to see my useless tears. “Look at me.”

I shake my head. “No.”

He slips his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my face up so I have no choice but to look at him. His gaze is dark as he wipes away a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You’re crying.”

I blink hard. “No, I’m not.”

He strokes his thumb across my chin, his nail grazing the edge of my lower lip. “I hate that I’ve made you cry.”

I close my eyes, the still-falling tears getting tangled up in my eyelashes. “I’m just… I don’t know how to handle this anymore. You. Us.”

“I’m sorry.” He steps closer. I can feel his body heat burning into me. And then his mouth is at my forehead, his lips brushing my skin in a tentative kiss. “So sorry.” Another kiss at my temple. “I didn’t know what to say to you after I left. I was ashamed of everything that happened, everything you witnessed. You deserve better.” He kisses the tip of my nose.

Without thought I sling my arms around him, anchoring myself. He’s big and warm and solid, and my heart eases at having him so close again. “I deserve you,” I whisper. “When will you realize that?”

We’re quiet for long, agonizing minutes. My forehead is pressed against his chin, my arms loose around his waist. He slips his arm around me so his hand settles at my hip. His other hand is in my hair, smoothing it back, tangling his fingers in the long strands, and I sigh at his gentle touch.

I never want this moment to end. I want to forget all our troubles and just focus on the two of us together.

“I don’t deserve you,” he finally says. “You accept me so easily, no matter how hard I push you away. You need to know I don’t do it on purpose. It’s just…the only way I know how to deal is to run.”

His honesty breaks my heart.

“I’m learning, though, that running away doesn’t solve my problems.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m seeing someone. A psychologist. She’s helping me a lot.”

I chance looking up at him and our gazes clash. He’s worried that somehow his admission might drive me away, I can tell. “That’s good. Did someone arrange that for you?” Had he told his father anything? Or was he still keeping all his secrets?

“No, I sought her out myself. We’ve talked a lot about what happened. And about you.”

“About me?” I’m shocked. After he left so easily, I figured he forgot all about me.

“Definitely about you.” He trails his fingers down my cheek and I release a shuddering breath. “You have no idea how important you are to me, do you?”

I slowly shake my head. “When you left, I figured we were finished. I thought you were over me.”

“I could never be over you.” Drew clamps his lips shut. I wonder if he wants to say something else.

I know I do. But I can’t. I’m not going to be as quick to reveal my emotions to him again. Not after everything we’ve been through. I’m too scared.

So I go with an easy admission. One not too far from what he offered me. “I’m not over you either,” I whisper.

Before I can say anything else, he yanks me closer and presses his mouth to mine. His lips are soft, damp and very, very persistent. I open for him easily, our tongues sliding against each other, his low moan fueling me on. Fueling us both on.

Just like that, I’m lost.

Drew

Finally. I’m kissing her again, tasting her, holding her in my arms. It feels so good, so f**king right, having Fable with me. In my apartment, back in my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve this gift but I refuse to screw it up again.

I’m not letting her go. Ever. I need her too much. I love her too damn much.

I wanted to tell her that too. I wrote the words in that final letter I left for her the last time we were together. Now, with her standing in front of me, my courage has evaporated. I’m scared she might reject me. At the very least, reject the words and the emotion behind them.

Instead, I kiss her. I’d rather show her how I feel than tell her.

“Take me to your room,” she whispers against my lips after she breaks the kiss first. “Take me to your bed, Drew.”

Grabbing her ass, I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. She weighs nothing, her soft, curvy body fits against mine perfectly as I carry her toward my bedroom, all the while she’s kissing and licking my neck. Making me so hard I don’t know how I’m going to stand the torture of not being inside her another second.

Damn it, I want to make this last. I want to take my time with her and go slow. Being with her again is like my every dream come true and I want to savor it.

But she’s squirming against me, her hot breath against my neck making me shiver, and I know this is going to happen way too fast.

We fall onto the bed together and I’m careful not to land on her since she’s so little. And perfect. Amazingly perfect as I pull away and study her from head to toe. Her long hair spills across my pillow, her chest rising and falling quickly. The lace top does little to hide the black satin bra she’s wearing and I can see the creamy skin of her flat stomach.

I desperately want to kiss and lick her there.

The little black shorts she’s wearing only emphasize the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs. I lift up on my knees so I can see her more fully. She opens her eyes, the smile curving her lush lips full-on seduction. It’s working. Fable can seduce me with one glance, one word, one touch.

“What are you waiting for?” She reaches toward me, hooks her finger around the belt loop of my jeans and tugs, but I resist.

“I’m looking at you first.”

Her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “You can look all you want later. I need you, Drew. Please.”

“What you’re wearing…” I shake my head. “It’s killing me.”

She laughs. “You should see the other outfits I have to wear as my uniform for work. You’ll hate them all if you don’t like this one.”

Jealousy flares within me and I tamp it down. “As long as the customers don’t touch you, I don’t have a problem.”

Her laughter dies. “Are you jealous?”

“When it comes to you? Always.” I slip my hand beneath the lace top, trace my fingers along her stomach. She sucks in a breath, her skin quivering beneath my touch, and I surge my hand up, until I’m playing with the clasp at the front of her bra. “You’re mine. You know that, right?”

She nods slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. “I—I wasn’t sure. After what happened between us. I always wanted to be yours but you left me.”

I close my eyes for the briefest moment, angry for making this beautiful, perfect girl doubt herself for even a second. “I’ve hurt you and I hate that. I’m going to make it up to you, Fable. I swear it.”

The snap on her bra springs open with ease and I’m eager to get everything off of her. I want to see her na**d, see if she’s as beautiful as I remember, and she laughs again when I tug impatiently on her clothes, trying my best to help her but really just making a mess of it. She slaps my hands away and slowly takes everything off, until I’m left with my mouth dry and my body hard when she’s completely na**d.

Fuck me, she’s even more gorgeous than I remember. It’s dark, I can hardly see a thing so I lean over to the window above my bed and yank on the cord that cracks the blinds open. The fog is thin outside, letting the moon’s light shine inside, casting Fable in a silvery glow, though the room is still mostly shrouded in darkness. My gaze sweeps over her, lingering on all the important, pretty bits.