Fall Into You (Morally Gray, #2)(66)

“I asked if you wanted me to buy you a ring, not that I would.”

“I see. Pardon me while I lie here and die of embarrassment.”

“Shay. Love. Why can’t we just take this one day at a time?”

I’m hurt and angry, but he called me love, so it shaves a hair off my angst. I lie on his chest and try to reason with myself that I’m asking for too much too soon, but then I get mad all over again.

“Hey, remember a little while ago when you asked me to promise I’d catch you if you fell into me? I guess I must’ve taken that the wrong way. You were actually talking about falling into my vagina, correct?”

He rolls over, pinning me underneath his heavy body and staring down with blazing intensity into my eyes.

He growls, “You know what I meant, and it wasn’t falling into your goddamn vagina.”

“So you were alluding to falling in love with me.”

“Would you like me to draw you a picture?”

“There’s no need to be snarky. Nice sidestep, by the way. You’re incredibly good at those.”

His lips thin. His eyes narrow. Thunderclouds gather over his head. All of that might convince me to drop the subject, except I just decided that I’ve had enough of dancing circles around each other.

“Okay, Cole. I’m just gonna go ahead and ask because I don’t love the whole cloak-and-dagger thing you’ve got going. What are you hiding? Do you have a wife stashed away somewhere? A girlfriend you haven’t told me about? A bunch of kids?”

“No, no, and no. And now we’re going to go upstairs, shower, and go to bed.”

Nose to nose, we stare into each other’s eyes. I can tell he really means this is the end of the discussion. He won’t answer any more questions. He won’t give me more than he already has.

Maybe ever.

He waits silently as I wrestle with dueling desires to let it go and see where time takes us or get up and walk out of his house and his life for good.

Instead of either of those choices, I lob the tennis ball back onto his side of the court.

“Okay. I believe you. And I’ll leave it alone for now. But here’s something I want you to think about, especially in light of what happened Friday night and the things you apologized for afterward, namely things you weren’t proud of like slamming doors and raising your voice.”

I pause to make sure I’ve got his full attention. I do, so I continue.

“There’s a fine line between privacy, which is everyone’s right, and controlling the flow of information, which is something bad guys do.”

His response is instant. He delivers it in a low, calm tone while staring right into my eyes.

“Believe me, I’m very aware of the behaviors of abusers. And if we were in a committed relationship, I’d tell you everything. No part of my life would be hidden from you, and I’d expect the same in return. But as I keep telling you, I don’t do relationships. There are reasons for that, very valid fucking reasons, but the primary one is because being with me isn’t safe. Not because I’d harm you in a physical or emotional way, but because my lifestyle is dangerous. That isn’t an exaggeration. It’s dangerous, Shay, and what you’ve encountered so far with how I handled Dylan is only the tip of the iceberg. So yes, I want you, and yes, I’m falling for you, but because I know what I know, I can’t let it go farther than this.”

My throat closes. My pulse races. My shame is a bottomless well that I throw myself into headfirst.

He’s flat-out telling me that this is it. Random hook-ups at his convenience.

No commitments, no questions, just sex.

I shouldn’t be so hurt. It’s not like he hasn’t been saying this since the beginning. I just haven’t been listening.

“I understand. I think I’d like to go home now.”

“Shay, please listen—”

“No, you listen, Cole. I hear you. I get it. And how you want to live your life is totally up to you. But you know what? I deserve better than late night bootie calls and an uncommitted heart. So yes, this has been amazing, and yes, I’m completely gaga over you, but you need to let me up now because I’m going home.”

He closes his eyes and mutters, “Fuck.”

Then he exhales heavily and rolls off me.

I stand, grab my heels, and walk across the grass-lined pavers to the terrace, where I grab my dress off the chair and step into it. As I’m zipping it up, he approaches, naked and stupidly beautiful, his face pained.

He watches me slip into my heels, then suddenly pulls me into his arms.

In a raw voice, he begs, “Stay. Please.”

When I don’t answer, he squeezes me tighter. “I’ll take you home in the morning. Just stay with me tonight, baby. Please stay with me.”

The vulnerability in his voice melts my fragile resolve. I rest my cheek against his chest and close my eyes, trying to keep the pain from my voice when I speak.

“Okay. Just for tonight. You’ve got me until the sun comes up, handsome, then I turn into a pumpkin.”

He kisses my neck. Without another word, he picks me up and carries me inside.





Cole





She’s silent as I carry her through the house and up the stairs to the master, but every so often, she releases a soft, sad sigh.