I close the shower door behind us, and we’re both under the spray. I brush her wet hair back from her face. “What’s wrong?” I ask. I turn so that my back takes most of the water.

She doesn’t talk. She just shakes her head against my shoulder and holds tightly to me. She sobs into my neck, and I just hold her. I don’t know what else to do for her. I’m as lost as Seth is when it comes to crying women. I think all men are. But she’s f**king miserable, and I think I just need to support her.

Finally, her sobs quiet, and I realize that she has rivers of mascara running down her face. I very gently push her back under the spray and wash it away, sluicing her face with my fingertips. I pick up a shampoo bottle and lather her hair. She gets really still in my arms, but she doesn’t fight me. She lets me take care of her. I rinse her hair and wash her with a soapy washcloth. I try not to look at her boobs, but it’s f**king hard. They’re boobs and I’m a guy, not to mention that they’re f**king perfect. I force myself to skim over them and pay attention to the rest of her body. She has dimples over her ass, and I want to lick them, but I don’t. Instead, I shut off the water, step out, and come back with towels.

She lets me wrap her up and dry her hair a little. I wrap a towel around my waist and pull her by her fingertips to her bed. She tugs the covers back like she’s exhausted and slides between the sheets. I move to pull the covers up to her chin, but she mewls a little protest when I try to leave so I slide in behind her.

She lets me wrap my body around her. But then she surprises me and pulls her towel off, tossing it to the floor. I follow with mine. We’re naked between her sheets, and oh my God, I have no idea what to do with her. I thought when this time came I would be ready to make love to her. But that’s obviously not what she needs right now, not to mention that Seth is in the other room.

I brush her wet hair down between us, and she rolls to face me. “My dad came to visit today.”

I don’t say anything because I don’t think she wants me to. Her ni**les are little pinpoints pressed against my chest, but I force myself to lightly draw my fingertips down her arm instead of touching them.

“He bared his soul to me. He told me about all the awful things he and my mother did to one another and why.”

Her voice is soft but not weak. Not at all. She sounds a little nasally from all the crying, and she’s a little hoarse.

“He told me about how I came to exist.”

I hope he didn’t go into a shit ton of detail because that would just be gross.

“I wasn’t a mistake. But what I told him might have been.”

“What did you tell him?” I ask softly.

“I told him that it’s all his fault that I can’t fall in love with someone.”

I freeze. Where does that leave me? “Why?”

“I’m used to being alone. If I don’t count on anyone, I’ll never get let down.”

I can see that.

“But then you happened.”

I take her leg and draw it over my hip. My dick is hard, and she’s right there, but I can’t do that. “And?” I ask. I run my fingers from knee to hip and skim over her naked bottom.

“And I think I fell in love with you. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I know I like you a lot and I want to have you around. And now that I’m getting used to you, you’re going to break my heart because I kind of need you, Matt. I kind of need for you to love me, too.”

I roll her to her back and settle between her thighs. I balance myself on my elbows by her head so I can play the wet hair on her forehead, brushing it gently to the side. “Done,” I say.

Her eyes jerk up to mine. “Done?” she echoes.

I nod and kiss the tip of her nose. “I want to eat, sleep, and breathe you, woman,” I say. I drag my nose up and down the side of hers. She shivers in my arms.

I kiss her quickly, and she scowls. “Needing me and wanting me are not the same as loving me,” she says, chewing on her lower lip. Her eyebrows furrow, and I kiss the crease between them, then smooth it with my thumb.

“Are you in love with me yet?” I ask.

“Are you in love with me yet?” she asks me.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I am.”

“Me, too,” she chirps. Then she giggles, and I can feel her belly rumble beneath mine. I really need to get off her or I’m going to be inside her.

“My mom is in rehab,” she says. I move over and bring her back to my chest.

“Really?”

She folds her hands on my chest and rests her chin on them. “Really,” she says.

“How do you feel about that?” I ask. I trail my fingers up and down her naked back.

“That’s the kicker,” she says. “I feel hopeful.” She heaves a sigh. “Sucks, doesn’t it? No matter what they do to me, I still want them in my life.”

“You want what could be,” I say. “That’s pretty normal.”

“I want to be the kind of mom she wasn’t.” She blinks her pretty blue eyes at me.

“I think you’re already succeeding at that.” I stay quiet for a minute. “I always said the same thing. I wanted to be the dad my dad wasn’t. He just took off. And I swore I would be better and do better.” I mentally shrug. “Now I can’t have kids, so I guess it’s a moot point.”

“I don’t want to jump the gun or anything,” she says. She winces. “But if we ever got to the point where we wanted to make this permanent…”