“You said you were sorry about how you treated me.” He stares at me with eyes so fierce, they glow. “Yes.” His voice is a rasp. He’s feeling some kind of way about me showing up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, that’s obvious. Also obvious is that he’s restraining himself from grabbing me and dragging me inside. That I’ve caught him off guard makes me breathe a little easier. It’s so rare that I get the upper hand. “You said I deserved better.” “Yes.” “You said you were wrong.” “Yes.” My sigh is heavy. “All right, then.” He stares at me in all his half-naked glory, a muscle working
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