Cass is quiet for several more minutes, but lets her hand stroke along my chest, and I can tell she’s thinking. I wonder if she’s uncomfortable? Does she want to get dressed, or is she going to sleep like that? God, I hope she sleeps like that. I’ll keep her covered if Paige comes home. I’m about to offer to let her sleep in my shirt when she speaks.

“Please don’t leave,” she says, her voice soft—a far cry from the confident goddess who was taking control of my body minutes ago.

“Uh…where would I go?” I chuckle, but I stop quickly. I kind of want to be funny, but I also feel a sharp sting in my chest because I think Cass is being serious. And the way she asks—the way she won’t look at me right now—damn it, she actually thought I would leave.

“Look at me,” I say, my hand gentle, but strong along her face, lifting her enough so she can see my eyes, my mouth, my expression. “Where would I go?” I ask again, this time my tone a little different—softer, and heartbroken for her.

“I thought—” she starts to speak, but stops, letting her eyes fall to my chest. I pick her chin up with my finger and run my thumb softly over her lip.

“Guys that do that are dicks,” I say, without a hint of humor.

“But isn’t that…kind of…your reputation?” She’s embarrassed to ask, and I know it’s because she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. But my rep is my fault, and the fact that she is worried about offending me with my own actions makes her maybe the sweetest girl on the planet.

“Yeah, well, I was a dick. Now I’m not,” I say, testing out a small smile. When she mirrors me, I let out a sigh and cradle her head, pulling her forehead to mine and pressing my lips to it softly. “Sometimes, we meet people that set our shit right. And you were like a bullet. You pierced straight…right about here.” I hold her hand over my chest, and I panic that she can feel how hard my heart’s beating.

She’s quiet at first, but slowly she comes back to me. “That…is the cheesiest line I have ever heard,” she says, unable to stop the grin from spreading into a full smile and soon a laugh.

“You love it,” I say.

“I do,” she responds quickly, pausing to look into my eyes for several long seconds, her lips making those tiny twitches that look like she wants to say something more. But she doesn’t, and instead leaves a kiss on my lips as she steps away from the bed and heads to her closet.

“You can wear my shirt.” I don’t know why, but I want to see her in something of mine. When she picks it up and pulls it over her head, as she disappears behind her closet door, I feel instantly satisfied.

My mouth is dry from saying the word love, and my heart is running about a million times faster than it was just seconds before. I know I didn’t really say that I love her. But my god it sounded like I maybe meant that. I don’t love her. I don’t love her—because that’s something you spend years looking for. And I have known this girl for a few weeks. I’ve only loved one girl…and she left me a fucked up cryptic voicemail that I haven’t thought about until right this second. I haven’t thought about it because Cass…she stops all time for me. When I’m with her, it’s only her—she’s all I see, and all I want. She consumes me.

But I don’t love her. I can’t. Not that fast. And what would Kelly think, if I fell for someone else after telling her I wanted to spare her from having to live a life with me.

What would Kelly think…if I fell in love? With someone else?

If I fell in love with Cass?

Chapter 11

Cass

I woke up for the first time around six in the morning. The sunlight was barely peeking into my room through the thin curtains, so I knew it was still early. I fell back asleep, but not until after watching Ty for almost an entire hour—every breath, every rise and fall of his chest, the way his arm twitched slightly from the weight of my head—I was building a mental scrapbook of all of these tiny little things. This is what a boyfriend is supposed to feel like.

My eyelids finally conceded again, and for several more hours, I fell into the comfort of safe arms and nonsensical dreams. But now that I feel the tiny tickle of fingertips up and down my back and arms, I’m fairly confident Ty has been watching me—locking away memories of his own. The thought makes me smile.

“There’s my ninja,” he whispers in my ear, nuzzling at my cheek and leaving soft kisses down my neck and shoulder.

“I sleep with one eye open. Ninja stuff. You wouldn’t understand,” I say.