I’d always disparaged the games people played in pursuit of love - or the next hook up. The whole thing was a competition to see who could get how far, and I could never figure out if there was more luck or skill involved, or some unknowable combination of the two. People rarely said what they thought, or revealed how they felt. No one was honest.

Not stupid. Overly trusting, maybe, but that reflects on his lack of trustworthiness, not on your intelligence.

Erin was right. Apologies could come too late.

I thought I dreamed you." The words whisper from my parched throat. His head tilts to one side, his mouth shifting to something less sarcastic, more amused. "That may be the most enchanting thing I've ever been told after spending the night with a girl.

I'm trying to protect you. From myself. I don't do..." he swung a finger back and forth between us"...this.

That's how they say it: He loves you in his own way. Well, what about my way? What if I need for him to love me in my way?

I'm gonna make that asshole gnaw his own hand off that night, dammit.