“What are you saying, Thomas?” “I’m saying I want you,” I admit. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you across the ballroom. Then I wanted you again when I saw your beautiful hair blowing in the wind at the park. And I’ve wanted you again every single fucking day I come home from work.” “B-but—” “You drive me absolutely insane, Peyton,” I cut her off with a grin on my face. I brush a strand of hair away from her face as I look deep into her blue eyes. “But I want you. I want this.” She pauses before the corner of her lip curls up the slightest. “What is this, Mr. Ford?”
