I stayed the night and we spent it in Rylan's bed. After a long, hot shower and some even hotter shower sex, of course. The sight of water cascading down his body, the feel of his skin sliding against mine, would be masturbatory fantasies for a long time. Then again, every encounter I'd had so far with Rylan was better than any fantasy I could cook up on my own.

Monday morning, he asked if I wanted to either drive one of his cars or have a driver take me in so we didn't arrive together. Then he proceeded to go down on me until I had to beg him to stop.

He drove, I rode, and we came to the agreement that we wouldn't advertise our relationship, but we weren't going to be crazy about covering it up either. Taking two separate vehicles seemed a bit extreme. Still, we made sure we didn't walk in close together. Professional distance. No touching. No lingering looks.

Well, maybe a couple when it came to the last one. As we went through the week, we were working enough that we didn't have time for dates, just late night calls, and that made it harder not to look at him through the day. Watching Emmaline fawn over him and trying to keep Christophe at bay didn't help matters much either.

I wasn't jealous of Emmaline, not after this past weekend and the way Rylan had looked at me, but her entitlement attitude and high school cattiness still made me want to punch that smug smile off her face. Or tell her about what an extraordinary lover Rylan was. Just to see the look on her face.

Christophe was only a little less annoying. He was constantly there, hovering around my office, asking me if there was anything he could get me. I appreciated the gestures and I didn't want to be rude to him since he'd never been anything but nice to me, but it was annoying to have to keep telling him that I was fine, that I didn't need anything.

I could've lied, I supposed, and told him that I was seeing someone. He had seen the flowers already. Well, telling him I was seeing somebody wouldn't have been a lie, but once he started asking about whom I was dating, that was when the lies would begin. While I was okay with keeping my relationship with Rylan quiet, I didn't want to start a whole web of lies that I'd have to try to keep track of. Aside from the fact that I didn't want that headache, I also knew it'd make things more complicated if and when Rylan and I went public. When, I told myself. It would be when, not if. He said he would wait as long as I needed, and I couldn't imagine opening myself up to any other man. It was him or no one. Not really a positive thought, but not exactly a negative one either.

At least my work didn't suffer. What did suffer was my level of sexual tension. There was only so much self-gratification I could take and, by Thursday, I was strung too tight for just my fingers to take care of. All day, I'd been debating whether or not to take the initiative and ask Rylan about his plans for after work, but then I'd gotten his text that Zeke needed him for something and he didn't know when he'd be able to talk.

I refused to be that selfish girlfriend who complained when her man wanted to spend time with his friends, especially when said friend already didn't like her. I sent a reply that I hoped everything was okay and that if he wanted to call tonight, it didn't matter the time, and if he didn't, I'd talk to him tomorrow at work.

Then I decided that I needed to go to the gym and work off some of this excess energy. Not too long ago, I would've hit a club or checked out one of the finals parties that were going on around campus, found some hot, horny guy and ridden him to an orgasm that now seemed unsatisfying. I wasn't even tempted to look for another sexual outlet.

The fact that I was so willing to change the habits I'd established over the last couple years spoke volumes. Rylan had called me his girlfriend and I'd been thinking of him as my boyfriend. He'd said he loved me. But, we hadn't discussed what that really meant. The kind of expectations we had of each other. What was our view of exclusivity? When would we expect the other to choose us over family? Not that I had that decision to make for myself, but it was one of those things I assumed couples talked about.

Yet another problem I'd been experiencing more this week as I spent less time with Rylan. He didn't just make me feel safe and give me toe-curling orgasms. He kept my mind from dwelling on the past, kept the questions from running over and over again in my head. When I was with him, I could live in the present and not worry about the future. For the most part anyway. My busy brain didn't like to give up much.

I headed to the bus stop after work. I'd need to stop home for better clothes to work out in, maybe grab something to eat. I shivered as a gust of wind came down the sidewalk. It was heading toward Christmas and the weather was starting to show it. We hadn't gotten our first snow yet, but the nights were definitely getting colder.

As I joined a few others in the bus stop shelter, I shivered again, but this time it wasn't from the cold. I turned, but there was no one behind me. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

I pushed the paranoia back. It happened from time to time. I'd feel like someone was watching me, but when I'd look, there would be no one there. The times when there were people caught staring, they'd generally look away, embarrassed, and I'd know that they were looking because of my hair or my tattoos and piercings. I didn't care about that. Hell, I expected it.

My therapist probably would've said that was the reason why I dressed and accessorized the way I did. Typical misdirection or something like that. Draw people's attention to the things I could control to prevent anyone from seeing the things I couldn't.

I hadn't taken any psychology classes in college. I didn't want to relive the memories I knew those classes would bring up. Instead, anything that I wanted to know about, I studied on my own. Probably how I knew what my therapist would say even though I hadn't seen her in years.

The bus was only a fraction warmer than the air outside, but now I wasn't thinking about the weather. I was working on keeping an eye on everyone who got onto the bus. I was about ninety-nine percent certain that I'd been imagining things, but I wasn't going to take any chances.

The feeling faded to the back of my mind when I reached my apartment and I ran up the stairs to warm myself up. I quickly changed into my usual workout clothes, grabbed a protein bar and some water. I ate standing up, stretched and then headed back downstairs. The gym I used was only a couple of blocks away from my apartment and a jog in the cold sounded like a good way to start my workout, as well as a good way to clear my head.

One of the things I liked about exercise and that had made me want to go the self-defense route rather than with weapons is that physical activity was one of the few things that could turn off my brain. The mindless repetition of one foot in front of the other, the steady thump-thump of my feet against the pavement, they were things I could use as a type of self-hypnosis to quiet the chaos.

I'd picked this gym not only because it was close to my apartment, but because it was small and everyone pretty much kept to themselves. If people wanted to socialize while they worked out, they went to the college gym or one of those bright, shiny ones where it was all machines and fitness instructors. Here, I showed my ID and they left me alone.

I'd already run and warmed up. Now, I wanted to hit something. I didn't do the whole spinning or Pilates thing. I was more of a tape up my hands and beat the shit out of a punching bag kinda person when it came to working out.

Since it was a weeknight, there were only a couple other people in the gym and they were completely absorbed in their own routine. I headed to my usual bag and started going through the warm up hits that I'd learned from my self-defense teacher. The sound of my fists hitting against the bag was soothing and I let myself fall into the rhythm. The moves were automatic, adding in kicks between every few hits.

By the time I finished, I was feeling much better physically. The sexual tension was still there, but it was lower now, much more manageable. I could probably have a full conversation with Rylan about work and not think about ripping his clothes off.

It was strange, I thought, how I'd gone from never wanting to sleep with someone more than once to not even considering sleeping with anyone else. I supposed my therapist would've said that, because Rylan made me feel safe, I wouldn't want to do anything to risk losing him. A part of me wished that was true. He did make me feel safe, and I didn't want to risk losing him, but that wasn't why I didn't want to have sex with anyone else.

In the past, I never thought about having sex with someone. It had always been about getting off. A guy was just the means to an end. I'd wanted the physical act, not the person. With Rylan, it was different. I wanted him. Yes, I wanted the sex, but it wasn't the release I craved. It was his body. The feel of his hands on my skin, his lips on mine. The taste and scent of him. It was a hunger inside me, a need that I'd never felt before.

And I was terrified.

He loved me. He'd said it and everything he did showed it.

I knew I cared about him, that I'd let him get closer to me than anyone, even Lily. I trusted him, which was huge. The question was, did any of that add up to love?

How could I tell him that I loved him if I didn't know what that meant? All I knew of romantic love was the entertainment version of it. Even my experience with platonic and familial love was limited to the short time I'd spent with Lily. What if I told him that I loved him and then realized that what I felt wasn't love?

But I couldn't love him. That wasn't allowed. I'd forbidden myself from letting anyone have that power over me, the power that being in love gave. So it didn't matter that I didn't know if what I felt was love because I'd never call it that.

I sighed as I climbed off of the bus. So much for clearing my head.

The moment I stepped onto the sidewalk, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I tensed and glanced around, but didn't see anyone. I hurried into the building and didn't relax until I was in my apartment with all the locks turned and the curtains closed. Even then, I still had a nagging feeling that someone was watching me. I checked the entire apartment, but it was empty. I sighed. I needed a hot shower and comfortable pajamas. Hopefully, by the time I was curled up in bed, Rylan would call.

Unfortunately, when I checked my phone once I got out of the shower, the screen was blank. No texts or missed calls. It wasn't exactly late, but I'd been hoping that whatever Rylan was doing with Zeke wouldn't take him that long.

I missed him.

The realization hit me.

I missed him. The sound of his voice. The way he'd chuckle at something I said. Hearing about his day.

Dammit.

I closed my eyes and put my head in my hands.

Even though I'd told myself not to, I'd fallen in love with him.