“I want to be someone you trust enough to invite home, Gemma. And I’m willing to wait for it.” There’s a small squeeze in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s pleasure or terror. “I’m only falling for this whole dinner ruse once,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt. He grins. “I’ll have to come up with something new the next time.” I climb out. “There won’t be a next time.” He waits until I’m safely in my car and driving away before he texts: Ben: Sure there won’t. I smile like a fool the rest of the way home.
