Looking back, I should have taken a cab. I should have hailed a cab and gone home and prayed someone was there to let me in. But I didn’t. Instead, I walked those blocks, thinking of all the reasons to go to him and all the reasons to walk away.

Reasons. Rules. Justifications I wore like armor to protect myself, to hide behind. I had been resolved, dug in my heels believing I was doing the right thing with every decision I made. But I didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted or what I needed.

I was still two blocks away when the sky opened up, first with fat, heavy drops, slow and steady, then faster, harder until it was raining in sheets. I could barely see. There was no awning, nowhere to wait out the deluge, so I hurried on, my hair hanging in my face, shoes slapping the pavement and clothes plastered to my body as I ran toward his building.

And the rain washed away my resolve. It washed away everything I thought I knew in rivulets and heavy drops, and the icy truth soaked through me, into my bones, so sharp that I split open. And what was left exposed was a scared little girl.

The doorman’s eyes bugged when he saw me approaching. “Are you all right, Miss Williams?”

I wrapped my arms around myself and nodded as I stepped under the canopy. “Just a little wet, thank you.”

He pulled open the door, and I ducked through shivering, my sneakers squeaking on the marble floor, across the big gold compass. He pressed the call button and stepped into the elevator, waving his fob over the pad.

“Just let me know if you need anything, miss.”

“Thank you.”

He tipped his hat and stepped out as the elevator doors closed. The only sounds were the chattering of my teeth and the hum of the motor as I rode up to his floor, stripped down and bare, my eyes on the seam of the doors and my heart frozen in my chest.

Cooper

The doorbell rang, and I got up, confused as I walked to the door, heartbroken when I opened it.

Maggie stood in my entryway, dripping wet, her curly hair hanging long and limp, her eyes wide and shiny. Her chin quivered, though I wasn’t sure if it was from her chattering teeth or the tears brimming in her eyes. Maybe both.

I reached for her, chest aching as I touched her freezing arm. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She looked up at me, her brows knit together, voice soft, uncertain. “I … I’m sorry to barge in on you, it’s just that my bag was stolen at work today, and I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn’t call West, and I didn’t have any money or my phone or anything, and I just didn’t know what else to do.” The word trailed off, and she took a shaky breath.

“It’s all right, you don’t have to apologize. Come in.” I guided her in and closed the door, glad to have something tangible I could do to help her, glad she was all right, if not cold and scared. “Let me get you a towel.”

She followed me to the linen closet in the hallway, and I pulled out a fluffy gray towel. I handed it over, and she took it with trembling hands.

“What can I do?” I asked gently.

“I … don’t know.”

“Do you want me to take you home? Or you can shower here, and I can dry your clothes?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.”

Maggie looked up at me with eyes so big, so bright, so full of pain and fear and sadness. I realized then that this wasn’t just about her bag or the rain. It was about Maggie.

She leaned toward me, calling me without speaking a word.

I stepped into her, slipped a hand into her soaking hair and searched her face.

“Tell me what you need, Maggie,” I whispered.

But she didn’t answer, just reached for me, closed the distance between us as she drew in a breath and pressed her lips to mine.

That kiss told me she needed me. And there was nothing left to do but give myself to her.

So I wrapped her in my arms as if they could save her, kissed her as if I could replace her pain with my love.

My hands roamed down her back, and I picked her up, carried her to my bedroom and laid her down, our lips never parting. Her hands scrambled for the hem of my shirt and peeled it off, and I did the same, unhooking her bra and tossing it away. I looked down at her stretched out on my bed, laid my hand on the flat of her stomach and dragged it down to the button of her jeans.

I unzipped them. I peeled them off. My hungry eyes roamed her shivering body, down to her panties, soaked from the rain, transparent.

“Please, don’t stop,” she begged.

I couldn’t deny her. I kicked off my pants and underwear, stripped off her panties and crawled up her naked body, my hot skin against her cold, dragging my lips up her stomach, her breasts, her neck. My knee slipped between her thighs, and the moment I lay against her, the shivering stopped. She wrapped herself around me as I flexed my hips, pressing her into the bed, my lips against hers demanding and accepting, giving and taking.

She trailed her hands around to my ass, dragged her nails across my skin, around my hips.

“Please,” she breathed, her eyes sparking with emotion.

I met her urgent mouth as she pulled me into her, rolling her hips. I knew what she wanted — I wanted the same — and I shifted, resting my crown at the very edge of her. When I flexed, I couldn’t breathe, just looked into her eyes, slipping in slowly until there was no space between us.

Her eyes closed with a sigh as I pulled out and slammed back in. She reached for me, pulled me down to meet her lips. And I kissed her, and she kissed me, with frantic breath and a broken heart. I felt everything — her heart, her body — and I took her and gave myself to her, claimed her and surrendered to her with every motion.

Her breath quickened, her body flexed, and then she came with a gasp, pink lips stretched, brows drawn, eyes pinned shut. I was right behind her, my hand gripping her thigh as I thrust into her again.

I buried my face in her neck as she wrapped her arms around mine, wishing I could stay just like that forever.

Her breath hitched, and I pulled away to find her crying. My hands were in her hair, my eyes searching her face, my heart aching in my chest.

“Don’t cry. Please.”

“I’m sorry.”

I thumbed her cheek. “You don’t have to apologize to me, Maggie. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t be here.” She looked away.

“Why?” I moved her face to look at me again.

“Because this isn’t fair to you.”

“I don’t care. You needed me.”

She shook her head. “I needed your help. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

A tingle worked down my neck. “Do you regret it?”

She didn’t answer.

“Do you regret me? Answer me, Maggie.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Her voice broke.

I rolled off of her, heart on fire as I picked up my pants and pulled them on, whirling around to face her. “You said you needed time, and I told you take it. I told you I’d be here for you, and I will. But I didn’t ask for this. You came here. You took what you wanted, and right now you’re looking at me like you’re ashamed of me, of us.” My muscles trembled, tense and taught. “You’re killing me, Maggie, and I can’t pretend that everything’s fine. Not right now. Not after that. I love you, can’t you see that? I love you and I need you. But I refuse to just be another mistake you’ve made.”

Her cheeks were red, lips flat as she blew out of bed and snatched her jeans off the ground. “You don’t love me.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel.”

Her face was hard when she turned around. “Everyone knows you don’t fall in love, Cooper … that was the whole point. It was the only reason why I agreed to this in the first place — you don’t feel. That was why this was supposed to work. No feelings. No strings. What happened to that?”