“I’m not upset, Georgia. I’m frustrated. Dinner with his family. The engagement ring. The box of his things in your closet. I’m really trying to understand, but—”

“You looked through my things?” She dropped my hand and crossed her arms over her chest. “That is not at all what I meant when I told you to make yourself at home.”

“No, I didn’t look through your things. I went to shut the closet door and I saw his name on the box, which I didn’t look through, in case you’re wondering,” I explained as I paced across the kitchen, earning a frustrated glare from her. She leaned against the counters waiting for me to justify seeing her things. “Believe me the last thing I wanted to see was another reminder that you’re still in love with someone else. The ring was enough.”

“That’s a low blow. Of course I still love him. It’s not like I chose to not have him in my life.”

“I get that, I really do, but you did choose to start a relationship—or whatever the hell this is—with me when you’re clearly not over him.”

“What do you want me to say?” Her eyes began to well with tears. “I’m trying to move on. I’m trying to move forward. That’s what we agreed on. You’re being really irrational about this.”

“Am I?” I snapped. “I think I’ve been more than rational about it. I’ve given you every opportunity to take things slow. You say you want to move forward but the second his name is mentioned you freeze up.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You did in the store when we saw his mother. You did the other night when you realized you had the ring on.”

“You were the one that stopped the other night.”

“Of course I did! The ring your fiancé gave you was staring me in the face. And don’t deny that you were just as thrown off as I was. I saw the look on your face. Like you were doing something wrong. It’s okay for you to be with me. It’s okay for you to move on with your life.” I let out a sigh. “Look, I’ve been supportive and understanding, but I can’t compete with a ghost, Georgia. I won’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” she said as the first tear fell down her face. “I want to be with you. You think I like living in the past? Having to revisit losing him every single day? Because I don’t.”

“You have a really weird way of showing it then. You still wear his ring.”

“On a necklace!” she yelled. “That I haven’t even had on since the other night.”

I could see how frustrated she felt and I hated that we were fighting over this. Hell, I hated that we were fighting period. I never wanted to make her cry and it was taking everything I had in me not to pull her into my arms.

“I want this. I want you.” She sniffed. A moment passed as she tried to compose herself and it took everything I had in me not to comfort her. If we were going to be together, this was a conversation that needed to happen. “You know, I was hoping to tell you tonight that I think I might be falling in love with you, but now—”

“You what?” I was surprised to hear her say that she was falling in love with me. I felt like an ass. A very lucky ass, but an ass nonetheless. Here I was reading her the riot act and she was planning on telling me something monumental—for both of us.

“I said I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“I...” I knew what I should have said. I should have told her I felt the same way, but this was new. I’d had girls says they loved me, sure, but not the way she was. They loved who I represented and what they thought they could get out of being with me. “You are?”

“Yes, you jackass, but you’re too worried about my past that you’re too blind to see it.”

Maybe I was. Maybe I was focusing too much on what she used to have with Jamie and not enough on what we were building together. Both of us seemed to have some things to let go of. Before she could call me another name or leave altogether, I walked over to the counter she was standing in front of and crushed my mouth to hers as I cradled her face in my hands. Yelling and crying could wait, I wanted to take my frustrations out in another way. I let my lips and my tongue say all the things I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be some runner-up for her heart. I wanted to be the only guy who ever kissed her this way. I wanted to be the only guy who made her body and her mind feel cherished. I wanted to be her everything.

Her hands slipped up around my neck. I dropped mine to her thighs as I lifted her up and placed her on the counter. Her legs locked behind me as if she didn’t want to let me go. Our mouths continued the confrontation we’d started with our words. Hers was biting down on my bottom lip as a frustrated cry slipped from her lips. Mine was trying to convince her through lashes of my tongue that I felt the same way about her that she did me. One hand tangled in her hair as the other held her body against mine. The heat of our kiss was only matched by the heat building between us as my cock pressed against her center.

“I only want you,” she said in a breathy moan as I rocked into her, her thighs clenching around me. I wanted to rip her clothes from her body and show her exactly what she would get if she kept whispering words of want in my ear. “Only you.”

“I want you too,” I said putting enough space between us that I could slip my hand down the front of her pants. I needed to touch her. I wanted at least one of us to get some relief from the pressure building in our bodies. I kissed her neck as I let my fingers move between her legs and slip inside of her. She cried out from the pleasure as she held onto my shoulders. Just hearing her moans was enough to nearly push me over the edge. The taste of her skin on my lips. The feel of my fingers moving inside of her, stroking her in every right place. The way it felt when she tightened and quivered around my hand. When I leaned back to look at her face as she came apart, I knew there was no going back for me. Whatever issues we had could be sorted out because this woman was it for me.

That moment far surpassed the others we’d shared. For a moment it was like there was nothing or no one that could stand in between us. We’d yelled. We’d screamed. We’d kissed. And, then she let me touch her and gave me a part of herself that she’d locked away for a long time. It was just us.

Knock, knock, knock.

And a delivery guy who was knocking on the door.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Brett said as he rested his forehead against mine. My body was still trying to process what just happened. It was the first time, in a long time, that I hadn’t given myself an orgasm. It felt good. Too good. So good that I was worried I might have just been ruined for any future self-stimulation. I knew my body and I knew my capabilities, what Brett had just done with one hand in a few short moments far out did anything I’d ever been able to do.

“Getting interrupted is kind of our thing,” I said with a smile. His hand slipped from between my legs and helped me off the counter.

“A thing I’d like to stop doing.” He laughed. “You better get the door,” he said. He placed his lips on my forehead before backing away. “I need a minute.” He excused himself to the bathroom and I knew exactly why. I’d felt the strain of his dick against his jeans. I’d fully planned on repaying the favor he’d done me, but like I said, getting interrupted was kind of our thing.

I went to the door, trying to put myself back together as best I could before opening. I was walking on shaky legs and more relaxed and content than I’d been in a long time. I could still feel his hands on me. In me. My lips were swollen from his kisses. My skin was still heated from his touch and what he’d just done to me. I took in a deep breath and tried not to smile like an over satisfied lunatic.