He’s almost to the door when the word stuck in my throat finally pops. “Wait.” Orion whirls, blue eyes bright. “What do you need?” So many things. I need to be independently wealthy, have an unlimited supply of chocolate cake, and a harem of knotted manservants who fuck me and then disappear. Maybe what I need most is a lobotomy. Because when I look at Orion standing in the doorway, the thing I want the most is the courage to ask for what I actually want. I want him to stay. I don’t want to do everything myself.
