I get off the elevator on my floor looking forward to the peace of my apartment and curling up with a good book. And hiding. Or maybe just sleeping. I’m exhausted from the museum, constantly keeping an eye out for David. That, and I’ve not slept well for the past several nights.

I near the turn in the hallway that will take me to my door, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end like something is wrong. It’s a feeling I know all too well having had to defend myself so often in the past. It’s a feeling I’ve come to listen to and trust. As quietly as I can, I situate my keys in my hands so that one key is poking forward like a tiny dagger before cautiously turning the corner.

What I see makes my stomach drop and my heart stop. I halt in my tracks, fully disbelieving what I’m seeing. I hold my breath and try to figure out what to do? Do I back away quietly and leave? Do I say hi? My head and heart are at odds.

My heart is winning. He looks so… broken. I want to run, but I also want to run up to him and hug him… kiss him. God I’ve missed him so much.

David is just sitting there, his back leaning on my door, head in his hands, arms resting on his pulled-up knees.

Suddenly, as though he feels my presences, he looks up at me. He looks as tired as I feel.

“Talia,” he says, almost breathy.

“Hi.”

He scrambles to his feet, and although he looks positively disheveled, he’s still as handsome as ever.

I finally get my feet to move, and I make my way to my door.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Uh-huh. I know.” I feel full of shame. He knows. He knows that I’ve been lying. “Um, lemme just…” I gesture that I need to unlock the door.

David reaches for the keys and when his fingers brush on mine, a surge of electricity and energy, the energy I’ve been missing for the past seven days, courses through my body. My eyes flash to his, and I can see he feels it too.

Then why has he stayed away? Why hasn’t he called? Or texted? Why did he take that blonde woman to the benefit?

He clears his throat and takes the keys, then opens the door for us.

Pushing the door wide, he steps back and motions for me to pass in front of him. I carefully step past him, and as I do, I mistakenly inhale taking his scent deep into my nose and lungs. The energy that had transferred into my body at his touch is now released, and I almost collapse from the adrenaline high. Somehow, I push through, and I find myself in my living room, yet I feel strangely alone. I turn to look for David. He’s still at the door, eyes closed, taking measured breaths.

“David?” I whisper quietly, fearing that I’ve upset him so much he can’t talk to me after all.

His head snaps up, and his eyes immediately land on mine, but I don’t see anger in those sultry browns. He swallows and then walks into the apartment closing the door quietly behind him.

I realize my mouth has gone dry, and I’m desperately needing water. “Can I get you some water?”

“Um, yeah. That’d be great,” he answers, licking his lips.

Grateful for the distraction, I head to the kitchen and take a moment to catch my breath. My mind is whirling with a couple dozen questions, primarily…

Did he find out all about me?

Is he here to confront me for my lies?

Is he here to apologize for his?

Why did he hide who he was from me?

Who was that girl on Friday?

Does he want to get back together?

How did he get into the building?

How has he been?

My emotions are all over the place from elated at seeing David, to anger, guilt, and confusion as they whirl about my head leaving me dizzy.

“Are you okay?” David asks, stepping into the kitchen.

“Huh?” I ask, startled at David’s presence. He’s taken off his jacket, and his sleeves are rolled up. His tie is loosened, and the top buttons are undone—or maybe those were like that when he was in the hallway? He looks like he’s ready to get down to some serious business.

With graceful steps, he walks to the fridge, opens it and pulls out two bottles of water. I remember buying the bottles of water and laughing to myself that it was such a frivolous purchase, and that water from the tap was just as good. David looks at me and takes a breath. With his free hand at the small of my back causing a riot of desire in the pit of my belly, he guides us from the kitchen to the living room. He ‘drops me off’ at the sofa and takes a seat in the easy chair catty-corner to where I sit.

David cracks open the bottles and tosses the caps on the coffee table and then hands me an ice-cold bottle. The icy bottle in my hand is a relief to the burning emotions inside of me. I gulp down half the bottle before I come up for air. I watch as he drinks from his own. My fingers itch to run along his strong jaw which has at least a week’s worth of scruff.

I take a breath and beating around the bush say, “So, how have you been?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at me waiting for my confession for everything he probably already knows.

“How much do you know?” I ask quietly.

I chance a glance at him to see worry blanketing his face. Does he actually not know?

“How much is there to tell?” he asks.

With my heart pounding in my chest so hard that I’m afraid my ribs might break, I take a breath and say, “For starters. My name is Crystal, not Talia. Crystal Jameson.”

My stomach drops. Her brother is the criminal. It takes everything in me to listen to what she’s telling me and keep my mind off the files from Alec. But it’s Talia—I mean Crystal. I have no choice but to listen to her.

She starts by telling me her real name and how she chose the name Talia. She tells me about her brother, Jude, who was in jail for the third time, which I knew from Alec, and her mother and the alcoholism. She talks about the dirtbags her mother brought home, her body language speaking louder than her words. She reveals that she doesn’t know a thing about her father. She gives me the run-down of her life and her jobs that she’s held to make ends meet.

I feel like I’m in a nightmare. Strangely, not for being lied to, but that her life had been so bleak and hard.

“I don’t know why, but I bought a lottery ticket with that ten dollars. It was foolish and impulsive, but…” she bites her lip then takes a deep breath and says. “Well, long story short, it was a winner. I won. Five thousand a week… for life,” she says, a smile pushing through her now tear-stained face. “I realized that this was my chance for a new life. One where I’m not the enabler. One where I can have a chance at my own happiness. And I know it sounds silly, but I’m terrified something will happen, and all my winnings will be stolen or taken away from me somehow. I haven’t told anyone but my lawyer who helped me secure the winnings, and my real estate agent because I couldn’t secure the place without a job. I’m sorry I lied, I just…”

“Stop. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry. That I somehow made you feel you needed to hide your past. I had no idea.”

“You… you didn’t know?”

“About what?”

“The winnings? My craptastic past? I thought… I thought you’d found out… That I was… trailer trash, and that’s why you didn’t bring me to the Sixty-Five Roses’ benefit.”

“No, I didn’t. Nor could I imagine any of it.” It’s a half lie. I sort of knew based on Alec’s report, but that was after the benefit. But I had no idea about the lottery winnings. “And you are far from trash. Don’t ever say that again.”

“And, well, you’re a Waterston…” she adds quietly.

“And how long have you known?” I ask, shame for my lies catching in my throat.

“I found out on Sunday.”

“Sunday? So… this whole time… you really didn’t know?” I don’t know why I sound surprised. She never once let on that she had any inkling she knew of my past. It could only be true.

She shakes her head slowly and looks at me with her eyes, a more turquoise hue from the tears she’s shed, and the hurt in those eyes guts me. “Why did you keep who you are a secret? I mean, my history is ugly. Yours is… well, impressive.”

“If I told you about the gold-diggers I’ve suffered through… those who want the life that money can buy… it was refreshing that you didn’t know. I liked how you didn’t know that I was a ‘most eligible’ whatever that means or my family’s history or worth. You didn’t have preconceived notions of… of… hell, I dunno. I’m sorry. It was wrong to deceive you.”

She chews on her lip for a moment, and I see tears well in her eyes anew.

She opens her mouth to ask a question, then closes her mouth. I, too, have something to say, but can’t find the words. Then we both start talking at the same moment:

“Why…” she says at the exact same moment I start asking…

“Who…”

“Ladies first,” I say, attempting chivalry when I’m really just stalling for time.

She takes a shaky breath and nods. “Why haven’t you called me in a week? I thought you’d somehow figured out that I was… well, you know, and that’s why you brought that blonde to the Sixty-Five Roses’ benefit on Friday. Who was that girl?”

Yep. She nails it. The elephant in the room. Now it’s my turn to show my cards. Well, one of my cards. The reason our ‘love train’ was derailed. And I’m surprised that I’d nearly forgotten all about last Wednesday in light of all she’d just shared with me. She must have seen the photos on the news or tabloids. I’m sure the rags had a field day with our appearance.

“She’s nobody.” Talia looks at me not buying one word. I sigh and fill in the blanks. It’s the least I can do. “Her name is Ginnifer Monroe. I know her from ages back. She and her family have deep pockets, and at the very least, I knew she’d donate to the benefit.”

“You never dated her?” she asks timidly.

“Way back. We’re just friends. Nothing more. I promise.”

Talia blinks a couple times and returns a shaky smile.

“My turn,” I say and take a deep breath. “Who was that guy you gave money to? The road worker?”

Her expression is instantly readable. A mix of ‘What?’ and ‘How did you know?’ Her cheeks glow red, and she drops her head. “An old friend,” she whispers.

“What kind of old friend gets an envelope of money? Are you into something illegal?” I ask. I know the question speaks directly to her brother’s history, but I have to ask.

She looks at me, horrified. “No! Not at all! I promise. I swear!”

She’s looking so panicked that my inner protector kicks into action, and I pull her into my arms. God, she feels so good. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve held her. She smells incredible. “Please,” I say, as soothingly and unaccusingly as possible. “What’s the story? Honesty. No judgment. I just need to know.” Fuck. I hope it’s a good story.

Talia… Crystal…launches into a story going back to 2012. She tells me about this guy named Leo. I see red as I hear about another guy who ran away with my girl. My Girl? And hearing that he’d left her high and dry. Why would she be giving money to him? But then she brings me up to today. The colossal misunderstanding and his sick daughter. My heart flips and suddenly aches for him. I was devastated with my sister being sick, I couldn’t imagine a child—hence, why I had taken the measures I did. Talia tells me that she gave him a hefty sum, and that she wanted to give him more, but is still figuring out her budget. She tells me that the guy is working two jobs and that his paychecks are barely enough to help his family get by, and that she was sure he was in debt because of his daughter’s illness. By the time she’s done talking, tears are easily streaming down her face.

“It’s just… not fair… you know?” she says between sobs. “He’s working… so hard. He moved… himself… and his family… his sick girl… to a place where he knew… no one… And two jobs…”

I stroke her soft tawny hair and kiss the top of her head knowing the helpless feeling consuming her.

“You’re sure about all of this?” I ask, having been the subject of too many attempted scammers to count.

“I have known Leo for years. Sure, I thought he was a scumbag after Tennessee because of our miscommunication, but I know when he’s lying, and I’m sure that he’s honest about all of this. Do you know any groups he can contact?” she asks me, her face full of hope.

“What did you say she has?”

“Symptomatic juvenile idiopathic arthritis or JIA. I read all about it online. It’s so tragic.” She starts to get all hiccup-y again.

I shush my girl watching her emotions spiral upward. “Let’s do some research. We can find out all we need to know. If his daughter is really sick, we can get them help.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes now bright with hope. “And she’s really sick. Leo wouldn’t lie about that.”

“We can look into it.”

I search her eyes, her mouth… and I’m dying to kiss her.

“I was going to tell you that night,” she blurts, sidelining my thoughts of a kiss. “I was going to tell you everything. Last Wednesday. I don’t want secrets. Not from you. Not anymore. I’m going to have faith in you. In us. Learning that everything went so wrong with Leo and me because we didn’t talk was an eye opener.”

She’s so pure. I kick myself for doubting her for even a second.

I think about all that’s been revealed over the past hour and know what I have to do.

“I have another confession,” I disclose. Talia’s eyes open wide, full of fear. “Nothing to be afraid of, but I feel I should be fully honest, since that’s what we’re doing, right?”

She swallows hard and nods her head slightly.

“I…” My words catch in my throat, and I swallow the lump that’s stopped them. This has never been hard to say before, but suddenly I feel dread in my gut. I clear my throat and start again. “I can’t have children.”

She quirks her head, and her brow wrinkles.

“I was sterilized fourteen years ago.” Her brows fly up high on her forehead, and she shakes her head slightly not understanding. Clearly more needs to be said, but I wonder how she’ll take it. “When Darlene died, I had myself tested. I’m a strong carrier for the gene to cause cystic fibrosis. It was an impulsive move to be sure, taking such extreme measures, so I don’t have a child with the illness or pass on the gene, but I was certain of my decision. I still am. It was horrible to live through, and I wouldn’t survive if I had to do it again. I… I just thought you should know.”

She takes my hand with both of hers and rubs the back with her thumbs. “I’m sorry. That’s such a difficult position for you. I understand why you did it.” Her voice is trembling. “I’m actually a little happy,” she adds.

Now it’s my turn to be confused.

“I don’t think I want to be a mother. With my history, I’m just not sure I’m mother material, and I’ve spent so much of my life taking care of my mom. I know it sounds selfish, but I’m… I’m also afraid I’ll become my mother.”

“Oh, Tal—you could never. I’ve never known anyone with a heart as big as yours. For what it’s worth, I think you’d make an incredible mother.”

But she shakes her head and squeezes my hand. “No. I can’t even imagine it for a second. There are studies that suggest alcoholism is a trait, and I don’t want to take chances with me or a baby. And I have no idea about my father’s genes. Besides, the world today is such a mess, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to bring a baby into it. I’m actually relieved that you… did what you did. Honestly.”

She absolutely undoes me.

I have only three words to say.

I’m in shock when he says the unexpected.

“I love you,” he says.

The words bounce around my head like the silver ball in a pinball machine. I hear the bells and whistles. Lights flash in my brain.

When his lips softly come down on mine after the purge we’d both experienced, I feel whole. Almost as if the drama of the past week didn’t exist. Almost. However, that feeling that we are meant for each other returns.

I pull back and stare into his impossibly dark eyes.

“I love you, too.”

David stands and scoops me into his arms in one swift movement. Just like the first time, I muse.

When we reach my bed, David lowers me and resumes his kissing while he works on removing my shirt. I mirror his actions and busy myself with the tiny buttons of his dress shirt. The frenzied mutual undressing continues until we’re both bare.

Feeling elated, I fall back onto the bed. As I bounce on the bed, I watch his eyes glint, watching my breasts jiggle in the broad light of day. Quickly, I cross my chest with my arms.

Quickly, David kneels on the bed and takes hold of my wrists and straddles me in one dizzying motion. “Don’t,” he says. “Don’t cover yourself. You are…” I can hear him struggling to breathe and talk. His eyes travel across my chest and tummy. “God, you are so fucking gorgeous. Inside and out. I’ve missed you so much!” That last bit is practically a growl, and I can feel the restraint he’s exercising in the grip he has on my wrists.

I gently wrangle a wrist from his grip and reach out to touch his face. Though he looks tired, he’s still so beautiful. He closes his eyes as my fingers touch his skin and scruffy beard then through his locks. I take this moment when he’s not watching me to check out his incredible body hovering just over mine. His strong arms, quivering… and his chest, flexed in concert with his arms. My eyes graze over his rippled abs and come to rest over his cock as it twitches on my belly.

My eyes come back to his face, and I see that he’s watching me watch him. A slow grin passes across his face, and I blush that I’ve been caught. I bite my lip, and David’s mouth comes down to mine, and he sucks the lip I was just biting into his mouth and traps it with his teeth, but not hurting me. Our lips meld into a slow, consuming kiss.

David pulls back, and seeing the look in his eyes, amplifies the burning inside. My need to make love with him. I want to beg him to take me already, but the sweet torture, the tender way he’s giving every bit of me attention makes me want to cry. I’ve never felt so revered.