At first, after Dana got out of the car in the middle of nowhere, I was angry. She was being ridiculous, I told myself, and I didn’t want to deal with her drama. I didn’t like being cut off in the middle of my sentences, and I went through a lot to go public so that neither of us had to worry.

I expected she would come home with a cab or something.

When she didn’t come home at all, I started to worry. The next few days I tried to call her, but she wouldn’t answer.

Now, it’s Friday, and I don’t know where she is or what she’s doing. I just know that she wants nothing to do with me. At first, I was angry about that, too. She was just overreacting. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why she was angry.

All I want to do now is tell her that I’m sorry and make it right. But I don’t know where the hell she is.

Our photo was all over the news, but the thrill of it all, the rush of going public, was tainted. I don’t care now what we do, or what happens, as long as I can speak to her.

I keep running scenarios through my mind where something went wrong, and she’s not okay. I shouldn’t have left her alone in the streets in the middle of the night. But I was angry.

All that anger is gone now. All that’s left is regret and worry and the feeling that whatever I did before to make it work, it was all for nothing.

I leave work early because I can’t concentrate on my work. I keep checking my phone, but I know she won’t call me. Not if she’s not answering my calls. I haven’t spoken to anyone about what happened, not even Mason. Everyone is still talking about us going public. I can’t exactly tell them how short-lived our bliss was.

I decide to go talk to my dad. If someone can give me advice, it’s him. He’s not very happy about our relationship, but he’ll be straight with me, and right now, I am in desperate need of advice.

When I go the studio, it’s closed for the day. I frown and walk to the door that leads upstairs to their apartment above. I knock on the door. It clicks from the inside as someone unlocks it, and the door swings open.

Dana stands in front of me like a vision.

“God, Dana, I’ve been worried sick about you,” I say.

She doesn’t answer me. She just shrugs. She’s wearing track suit pants that belong to Susan and a t-shirt with a peace sign in flowers on it. Her hair hangs around her face, and she has dark circles beneath her eyes like she hasn’t slept very much.

“What do you want, Keagan?” she asks. She sounds as tired as she looks.

“I wanted advice from my dad, but now that you’re here, it’s so much better.”

She rolls her eyes, leaves the door open, and walks to the living room where she sits down on the couch. I sit down, too.

“Please talk to me,” I say.

“What do you want me to say?”

She doesn’t sound happy. I don’t blame her.

I shake my head. “You don’t have to say anything,” I say. “I’m the one that has to do the talking.”

She pulls her legs up so that her feet are on the couch, and she hugs her knees to her chest. She looks defensive and vulnerable. Large windows look out over the street, and I look at the view that she seems to be studying so intently.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Dana looks at me. “I don’t want to be in this thing for you just to call the shots and tell me what to do.”

I nod. “I know. I was wrong. I should have talked to you about everything before I said anything to the press. But the truth is…” I hesitate because it’s not easy for me to talk about my emotions like this. I have to do it, though, if I want us to go anywhere. “I was scared.”

Dana blinks at me. “Of what?”

“Of telling you how I feel about you. I was scared that you might reject me. I didn’t want to ruin what we already had, and I was scared that it would hurt when I told you.”

“Tell me what?” she asks. Her voice is breathy, her eyes large, and she looks younger than usual, more fragile.

I take a deep breath. “That I love you.”

She stares at me for a moment, and I don’t know what to expect. Dana shakes her head back and forth, and her eyes slide back to the view. I move from my couch to hers and take her hand.

“I’m serious,” I say. “I love you. I should have told you before I told them. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Dana swallows. “I want to be angry at you,” she says. “But all I am is hurt.”

I nod. I understand.

“I made sacrifices, too, you know.”

I nod again. “I know. Your job. And going public. I realize it’s a bigger sacrifice for you than it is for me. I know I was wrong.”

I raise her hand to my lips and plant a kiss on her knuckles. She looks at me, and for a moment, I think she’s going to cry. She lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

“It’s okay,” she says in a soft voice. And I believe her. “I love you, too.”

The words are so soft from her lips I can barely hear them, but they’re there, and they are real. I hesitate only a moment before I take her head in my hands and kiss her.

She kisses me back, carefully at first, but then the kiss intensifies, and suddenly, all I want to do is be inside her. It’s not about lust, either. I want to claim her as mine, to take her back into my personal space, to keep her safe and not let her go.

“Let’s move away from windows,” she says. I have a feeling she feels the same as I do, but I won’t assume again.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to be with you,” she says, and the way she says it tells me exactly what she means.

I get up and hold my hand out to her. She takes my hand, and I pull her against me. I’m already hard for her, but I want to make this about her.

The only two places in the apartment with windows that allow for privacy is in the spare bedroom and the main bedroom. There’s no way I’m going to lead Dana to the main bedroom, so we walk to the spare, and I close the door.

“Where are they?” I ask Dana, only thinking to ask, now.

“They’re on some expedition. Chris said they’ll be all day.”

I smile at her. “Perfect.”

I step close to her, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her. I let my tongue slide into her mouth slowly and taste her as if it’s the first time. As if I haven’t tasted her before. The kiss is deep and sensual, drawn out and Dana melts against me.

I let my hands roam over her body, touching her everywhere, her breasts, her ribs, her stomach, her hips, her groin, her ass, her back. I slide my hands over her in one big caress. Her breathing gets harder as I do, and I can tell that she’s getting turned on by it. The urge grows inside me, but I don’t act on it. I want to keep this soft and sensual. I want to show her that I love her.

Slowly, I start to undress her. Piece by piece, I get rid of her clothing, and she does the same for me. When we’re both naked, I guide her back to lay on the bed. I crawl over her body and kiss her again. I make my way down her jawline and onto her neck, focusing on the delicate skin below her ear, the dip above her collarbone, and then her chest. I kiss a line between her two breasts and over her stomach. I shower her with kisses, worshipping her body.

She breathes harder and moves beneath my hands and lips, but I don’t touch her anywhere sexual. I want to kiss her, to love her, and to show her how beautiful she is. When my mouth reaches the dip above her hip bone, she shudders. I open her legs and work my way down her legs, kissing the insides of her thighs. I smell her scent with her legs open, and it damn near drives me crazy, but I’m not done.

I keep kissing her down one leg and then back up the other. I roll her over and do the same with the back of her body, crawling up from her feet. Every inch I kiss, I cover with my own body until I’m lying almost on top of her, keeping my weight off her body enough not to crush her beneath me.

“Keagan,” she breathes. I know I’m torturing her. “Please, I need more.”

I know she can feel my cock against her ass, the feel of my flesh thick and hard, resting against her ass cheek. Her skin is burning hot, and I want to take her, but I don’t want to do it for the sake of getting off.

Dana rolls over onto her back again. I kiss her on the mouth, my tongue playing with hers, and press the length of my body against hers. She sighs into my mouth. My body aches for her, but I am resolute. I want to take it slow, and I will control myself.

I kiss her again, showering her body with kisses. This time, I include her breasts. I take each nipple into my mouth in turn and suck gently on her. I knead her breasts and run my hands down her ribs and hips, feeling her, touching her. She’s petite in my hands, and being bigger and stronger than her makes me feel protective of her.

I won’t hurt her again, I tell myself. I will protect her, the way a man should do for his woman.

“Please,” she begs and her thighs fall open for me.

I nestle myself between them, and it takes a lot not to push into her, but I don’t want to do anything other than make love to her, and I’m going to draw it out as long as it’s necessary for her to realize how much I feel for her, and how much she means to me. It’s not just about sex with her, even though it’s mind-blowing sex. It’s about so much more.

She sighs when I rest between her hips, not pressing myself against her entrance. My skin touches hers, and that’s what I want. I can satisfy my hunger for her later. Right now, I want to make sure that everything is right between us.