“Hey, my apartment is lovely.”
“Your apartment is lovely, but it’s tiny and no way will I allow you to raise my kid there.”
“You grew up in places like that.”
“Exactly. I know how bad it is.” He touched her cheek. “I don’t like you going home at all.”
She smiled. “But I happen to love my little piece of heaven.”
“With my baby, you’d have to compromise.”
“I could do that, so long as you did.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn.”
“And you mister, are too used to getting everything you want,” she said, dropping a kiss to his lips. “It needs to stop.” She cupped his cheek.
“No. Nothing needs to stop. You need to learn to give me what I want, and in return, I’ll give you what you want most.”
She tilted her head to the side, smiling. “Oh, yeah, and what do you think I want?”
“I see you. That, for you, is enough.”
Her heart started to pound as he lifted up from the sofa. He picked her up, and she didn’t fight him as he carried her through to his bathroom.
He was the first man to really see her, and she knew the longer she was with him, the scarier it got for the safety of her heart.
****
“At least you’re not pregnant,” Gabe said. He carried the pizzas he’d just purchased to the small table.
“Ha ha. Aren’t you going to complain?”
“What do I have to complain about?”
“You should send me home because this totally messes with your weekend and your policy of no clothes.”
“Not at all. You owe me. I get to have another weekend.” He opened the boxes and grabbed a slice of pizza.
“I don’t know if I trust this.” Laura pointed at him.
“You don’t trust me?”
“Not you exactly, but this. You’re … nice.”
“I can be nice.”
“With the reputation you have?”
“You do have to keep this to yourself. I’m not a nice person.”
“How many people have you killed?” she asked.
He chewed on his slice of pizza. “I don’t count.”
“You don’t?”
“There’s no reason to. Death is pointless, and it’s dirty. The men and women who have disappeared deserved it.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” she asked.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
She leaned forward and grabbed a pizza slice. “Exactly. Someone in your position shouldn’t be so trusting of a woman like me.”
“And what kind of woman are you?” he asked.
“I’m not important. I’ve told you that.”
“You’re not important to everyone else. I didn’t say that. I consider you very important.” He took another slice of pizza.
“Do not for a single second think I’m trying to manipulate you into saying the words. I’m not. I don’t believe in love. With everything I see, I believe most people only have the power to love themselves, no one else.”
He reached out, playing with a curl of her hair. “I think it’s sad you don’t believe in love.”
“Do you?”
“I believe it’s possible to love someone so deeply. I’ve seen it.” He’d seen it in a couple of his men who’d married the love of their lives. True love was rare. For a long time, he’d doubted it existed.
“Really? You’ve seen true love?”