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The following weeks are like one big dream. I’ve never felt so loved before, not even with Dean before he abandoned me.

Then again, if he’d loved me like he claimed, he wouldn’t have moved on without me.

Ryan cups the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. As soon as we break apart, Gunner and Bluebelle jump onto the couch with us.

“My place isn’t as homey as yours,” he says apologetically.

I nod at the floor-to-ceiling windows in his penthouse. “But the view is way more amazing.”

He touches my face. “I don’t know about that.”

Sighing, I lay my head on his shoulder, and he clicks on the afternoon news sports recap.

“Rumor has it that Ryan Turner, wide receiver for Raleigh’s very own Renegades, is being courted by the Patriots,” the woman says.

Ryan tenses up slightly, but I rub his leg. “We can talk later.” I’m not worried. If he wanted to go to Boston, he would have told me by now. We talk about the future often enough. He’s always asking me if I’ve come up with my next brilliant design. Always asking if I want to start up another company.

I frown.

Ryan’s always asking about my future plans. Whenever I try to broach the subject of his plans, he always deflects and brings it back to me.

Not that any of it matters. Haven’t I told myself I’m here to enjoy Ryan’s company? Haven’t I convinced myself this is nothing more than a fling, a way to get back into the dating game?

My heart turns over in my chest.

Yes, I have told myself that, but it was before we slept together. Before we spent so much time together. Before he met my brothers and parents, and I met his sisters and mother. Before we spent every available minute together.

Oh no.

We’re a couple. An honest-to-goodness couple, and the thought of him leaving makes me want to break down.

I’m in love with him.

Inwardly shaking my head, I refuse to believe it. There’s no way I fell so hard, so quickly. That’s not me. It took two years for me to tell Dean I loved him.

Ryan isn’t Dean.

I take a deep breath, and Ryan relaxes against me.

Ryan isn’t Dean, I repeat.

No matter how I feel about Ryan, he wouldn’t keep something like that from me.

“Do you want to spend the night?” he asks on a yawn.

“Does Bluebelle love to lick Gunner’s eyeball?”

Ryan grimaces. “You have a way with words, Ashley.”

“Thank you.”

“A really awful way with words. I hope that’s not one of your dreams.”

“Har-har, Mr. Funnyman. Why don’t you tell me your dreams?”

He pulls me onto his lap. “I’ll tell you about this fantasy I’ve been wanting to come true.” Even as my heart drops to my toes, my body heats up, responding to his wickedly talented hands as he tells me about some highly creative uses for pearls and blindfolds.

“Sound like something you’d be willing to try?” he asks.

I wriggle my bottom against his erection. “Do I get to use the pearls and blindfolds on you?”

“The pearls are for you, but I’m okay with the blindfolds.”

“Deal.” He cuts off the television and pulls me to my feet before leading me into his bedroom.

Then he makes his fantasy my reality.