That's all I know.
Wanna go?" "It's not a question of whether I want to go.
If you're going, so am I."
My brows rose.
"Is that right? And what if I hadn't asked you?" He reached for my hand and gently twirled my promise ring around my finger.
"Then you wouldn't be going, either."
"Excuse me?" I shoved my hair back.
Noting the set look on his gorgeous face, I sat up.
"Gimme that coffee.
I want to be caffeinated when I kick your ass."
Gideon grinned and handed the mug over.
"Don't look at me like that," I warned.
"I'm seriously not happy with you telling me I can't go somewhere."
"We're talking specifically about a rock concert and I didn't say you couldn't go, just that you can't go without me.
I'm sorry you don't like it, but it is what it is."
"Who says it's rock? Maybe it's classical.
Or Celtic.
Or pop."
"Six-Ninths signed with Vidal Records."
"Oh."
Vidal Records was run by Gideon's stepfather, Christopher Vidal Sr., but Gideon had controlling interest.
I wondered how a boy grew up to take over his stepfather's family business.
I figured whatever the reason was, it was also why Gideon's half brother, Christopher Jr., hated him to the extreme.
"I've seen videos of their indie shows," he said dryly.
"I'm not risking you to a crowd like that."
I sucked down a big gulp of coffee.
"I get it, but you can't order me around."
"Can't I? Shh."
He placed his fingers over my lips.
"Don't argue.
I'm not a tyrant.
I may occasionally have concerns, and you'll be sensible about acknowledging them."
I shoved his hand away.
"'Sensible' being whatever you've decided is best?" "Of course."
"That's bullshit."
He stood.
"We're not going to fight over a hypothetical situation.
You asked me to go to the concert with you on Friday and I said yes.
There's nothing to argue about."
Setting my coffee on the nightstand, I kicked off the covers and slid out of bed.
"I have to be able to live my life, Gideon.
I still have to be me or this won't work."
"And I have to be me.
I'm not the only one who needs to compromise."
That hit me hard.
He wasn't wrong - I had a right to expect him to give me my space, but he had a right to be understood as the man he was.
I had to make accommodations for the fact that he had triggers, too.
"What if I want a girls' night out clubbing with my friends?" He caught my jaw in both hands and kissed my forehead.
"You can take the limo and stick to clubs I own."
"So you can have your security people spy on me?" "Keep an eye on you," he corrected, his lips sliding over my brow.
"Is that so terrible, angel? Is it so unforgivable that I hate taking my eyes off you?" "Don't twist this around."
He tilted my head back and looked down at me with hard, determined eyes.
"You need to understand that even if you take the limo and stick to my clubs, I'm still going to go crazy until you get home.
If that means you're driven a little crazy with my safety precautions, isn't that part of the give-and-take?" I growled.
"How do you make something unreasonable sound reasonable?" "It's a gift."
Grabbing his very fine, very taut ass in my hands, I squeezed.
"I need more coffee to deal with your gift, ace."
* * *
It had become somewhat of a Wednesday tradition for Mark, his partner Steven, and me to go out to lunch.
When Mark and I arrived at the little Italian restaurant he'd chosen and found Shawna waiting with Steven, I was really touched.
Mark and I had a very professional relationship, but somehow we'd managed to make that personal and it meant a lot to me.
"I'm so jealous of your tan," Shawna said, looking casual and cute in jeans, embellished tank top, and filmy scarf.
"The sun just makes me red and gives me more freckles."
"But you've got that beautiful hair to show for it," I pointed out, admiring the deep red hue.
Steven ran a hand through his hair, which was the exact same color as his sister's, and grinned.
"The things one sacrifices to be hot."
"How would you know?" Shawna shoved at his shoulder with a laugh, an effort that didn't budge her brother even an inch.
Where she was slender as a reed, Steven was big and strapping.
I knew from talking to Mark that his partner was very hands-on with his construction business, which explained both his size and the rugged condition of his hands.
We entered the restaurant and were seated right away, thanks to the reservation I'd made when Mark had invited me to lunch.
It was a small establishment, but it had great charm.
Sunlight poured in through the floor- to-ceiling windows and the aroma of the food was so tantalizing it made my mouth water.
"I am so excited about Friday."
Shawna's soft blue eyes were lit with anticipation.
"Yeah, she'll take you," Steven told me dryly, "and not her big brother."
"Sooo not your scene," she shot back.
"You hate crowds."
"Just gotta establish some personal space, that's all."
Shawna rolled her eyes.
"You can't be a bruiser everywhere."
The talk about crowds had me thinking of Gideon and his protective streak.
"Mind if I bring the guy I'm seeing?" I asked.
"Or is that a buzzkill?" "Not at all.
Does he have a friend who'd like to come?" "Shawna."
Mark was clearly shocked.
And disapproving.
"What about Doug?" "What about him? You didn't let me finish."
She looked at me and explained, "Doug's my boyfriend.
He's in Sicily for the summer taking a culinary course.
He's a chef."
"Nice," I said.
"I dig guys who can cook."
"Oh, yeah."
She grinned, then aimed a glare at Mark.
"He's a keeper and I know it, so if your guy has a friend who's fine with filling the empty seat with no possibility of a hookup, bring him along."
I immediately thought of Cary and grinned.
But later that day, after Gideon and I had spent quality time with our personal trainers and had returned to his apartment for the night, I changed my mind.
I got up from the couch where I'd been trying unsuccessfully to read a book and padded down the hall to his home office.
I found him frowning at whatever he was working on, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
The glow of the monitor and the spotlight aimed at the photo collage on the wall were the only sources of illumination in the room, which left much of the large space in shadow.
He sat in the semidark, bare- chested and beautiful, alone and powerfully self-contained.
As he always did while working, he looked solitary and unreachable.
I felt lonely just looking at him.
The combination of the physical distance caused by my period and Gideon's understandable decision to sleep separately stirred my deepest insecurities, made me want to cling tighter and try harder to keep his attention focused on me.
That he was working instead of spending time with me shouldn't have rankled - I knew how busy he was - but it did.
I felt abandoned and needy, which told me I was regressing into familiar bad patterns.
The simple fact was, Gideon and I were the best and worst things that had ever happened to each other.
He looked up and pinned me with his gaze.
I watched his focus shift from work to me.
"Am I neglecting you, angel?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
I flushed, wishing he couldn't read me so well.
"I'm sorry to interrupt."
"You should always come to me when you need something."
Pushing his keyboard drawer in, he patted the empty space on the desk in front of him and wheeled his chair back.
"Come sit."
A thrill rushed through me.
I hurried over, making no effort to hide my eagerness.
I hopped onto the desk in front of him and smiled wide when he rolled his chair forward to fill the space between my legs.
Draping his arms over my thighs, he hugged me around the h*ps and said, "I should've explained that I'm trying to clear my schedule so we can take off this weekend."
"Really?" I pushed my fingers through his hair.
"I want you all to myself for a while.
And I really, really need to f**k you for a very long time.
Maybe the whole time."
His eyes closed as I touched him.
"I miss being inside you."
"You're always inside me," I whispered.
His mouth curved in a slow, wicked smile and his eyes opened.
"You're making me hard."
"What's new?" "Everything."
I frowned.
"We'll get to that," he said.
"For now, tell me what you came in here for."
I hesitated, still stuck on his cryptic comment.
"Eva."
His firm tone focused me.
"What do you need?" "A date for Shawna.
Uh .
not really a date.
Shawna's got a man, but he's out of the country.
It'd just be better if we made it an even party of four."
"You don't want to ask Cary?" "I thought of him first, but Shawna's my friend.
I thought you might want someone you know to come.
You know, keep the dynamic even."
"All right.
I'll see who's free."
I realized then that I hadn't really expected him to take me up on my offer.
Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face, because he asked, "Is there more?" "I ."
How did I say what I was thinking without making an ass of myself? I shook my head.
"No.
Nothing."
"Eva."
His voice was stern.
"Tell me."
"It's stupid."
"That wasn't a request."
An electric tingle coursed through me, as it always did when he took on that commanding tone.
"I just thought you socialized for business and screwed random women occasionally."
Saying that last part was hard.
As lame as it was to be jealous of women in his past, I couldn't help it.
"You didn't think I had friends?" he asked, clearly amused.
"You've never introduced me to any," I said sullenly, picking at the hem of my T-shirt.
"Ah ."
His amusement deepened, his eyes sparkling with laughter.
"You're my sexy little secret.
Have to wonder what I was thinking when I made sure we were photographed kissing in public."
"Well."
My gaze moved to the collage on the wall where that very picture could be found, a picture that had been plastered all over gossip blogs for days.
"When you put it like that ."
Gideon laughed, and the sound spread through me in a heated rush of pleasure.
"I've introduced you to a few of my friends when we've been out."
"Oh."
I'd assumed everyone I had met at the events we'd attended were business associates.