It took a whole three minutes for my heart to resume its normal rhythm and settle in my chest. In that one hundred and eighty seconds, comfort crept in—the unimaginable softness of the pillow, the way my body melted into the mattress, Gavin curled against my side, his hand flat against my stomach. I hadn’t felt that at peace since the last time I’d thrown better judgment to the wind and gotten completely wrapped up in everything that was Gavin.

Even though I knew down to my marrow staying the night was a mistake, I hesitated. A set of excuses were set to parade across my brain right up until I remembered Gavin’s failed mid-sex conversation. I didn’t know for sure, but I could guess what he might have said. And even that glimmer of possibility was too much.

I scooted out from underneath his arm, and his hand hit the mattress with a thump. He blinked up at me blearily, half-asleep. “Where are you going?”

I bent down to scoop up my undies, answering when I popped back up. “Home.”

His eyebrows zipped together. “Now?”

“Just as soon as I can—” I scanned the bedroom floor, then went to the door to look out. Ah, there were my pants. “—find the rest of my clothes.”

His feet hit the floor behind me. “You realize what time it is?”

In all honesty, I couldn’t even guess what time it was, though I assumed it was late. I peeked at his endless stretch of windows—holy hell this place was massive, bigger than all my apartments combined—and found the deep blue-black of the earliest morning hours. “Yes,” I finally answered him. “Which is why I need to get home and get some sleep before I have to be at work.”

He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb of his bedroom, hand landing on his hip. His very naked hip. I paused for the tiniest of seconds in my search to soak in Gavin in all his glory. He had a new tattoo across his biceps, some script I couldn’t read from this far away, and another on his forearm. He was all long, lean muscles like a swimmer, and I couldn’t quite help following the line of the muscle that created a wonderful V over his hip, leading right down to his—

Gavin whistled and widened his eyes at me. “I said, I have a perfectly good bed right here.”

At his whistle, a furry little creature scurried out from a dog bed I hadn’t even seen in the corner, the nametag on his collar jingling. Blue eyes peeked up at me as he sat down at my feet. He was a curious little thing, looking like nothing more than Sherlock Holmes’s Watson if he’d been of the K9 variety.

“Dani,” Gavin said, exasperation dripping from my name.

“Gavin,” I countered, glancing up at him while I gave his four-legged friend a quick scratch behind the ears. He licked my fingers before trotting off to collapse at Gavin’s feet, rolling over to show off a furry belly.

“You don’t have to leave.”

I grumbled to myself as I ducked down to look underneath the couch. Nothing. I leaned against the cushions. “Tonight was fun. But that’s all it was. We’re still on the same page, right?”

Over the years I’d become a master of many things, lying being one of them. Some lies I told so many times I almost believed they were true. But this lie I needed Gavin to believe. I needed him to hear it and never doubt it, even though every syllable of it was filled with deceit.

“Obviously.” He barely moved, but my life had taught me to notice things others wouldn’t, like the way his mouth tightened at the corners, the slight curl to his fingers as they fisted and flexed. A lesson I’d completely ignored when I let him kiss me in the middle of the damn sidewalk.

“Then you know why I’m leaving.” I sidestepped an overturned chair. Aha! I snatched up my shirt from where it was curled up on the floor at the base of the refrigerator and slipped it over my head.

“Fine.” He sauntered over to his own discarded pants and fished his phone out of his pocket. “But at least let me call you a cab.”

“That’s really not necessary.” My next objective was my purse. I mentally kicked myself for being so careless with it. Shit, shit, shit. I could practically hear my dad’s voice whispering in my ear, And what would have happened, Dani, if they’d found you here?

I had to squeeze my eyes shut to block out the images, the cold hard fear that spiraled through me. No weapon, no exit strategy, and Gavin, collateral damage. I shook my head. I couldn’t afford the luxury of being careless. Not even for this.

When I opened my eyes again, my gaze landed on my purse, sprawled on its side near the front door. I rushed to it, shoving the barrel of the gun back inside before Gavin saw it and we had to have that conversation.

“You can’t fault me for calling a cab. That can’t possibly be against your rules.” He threw is arms out in clear annoyance. “I do that for every girl.”

I let his words wash over me without flinching, fighting the hurt that was threating to rise up. That was what I wanted. To just be another one of those girls. To keep him safe.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I can manage.”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes all kinds of sad. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It does.”

* * *

In the span of two weeks, I spent time with Gavin only twice. Not for lack of trying on his part. Once a week seemed reasonable enough. Casual, just the way I intended it to be. Being with him too much was intoxicating, and as much as I enjoyed it, the realities of my life required I remain sober.

That wasn’t to say I didn’t crave his company.

The Blackbird was empty. Mick was somewhere in his office, puttering over his receipts, but other than that I was on my own. I’d volunteered to open the restaurant every chance I got; every little bit of money helped. My stash was almost non-existent, not even reaching triple digits. But even in a worst-case scenario, it was enough for a bus ticket and food for a few days.

It wasn’t only the money that drew me to mornings at The Blackbird, but the tiny sense of relaxation it brought me. Other than my apartment, it was the only other safe place I had. I could never let my guard down entirely, but here, at least I didn’t have to be on high alert.

I stuck a rag inside another glass and spun it around my hand, drying off the damp glassware. There was an entire rack of them to go through and stash below the bar before the customers came flooding in.

Halfway through, the front door swung open, shooting a square of light across the floor. I tensed, hand hesitating over my purse, until I saw Gavin come striding in, his smile as bright and shiny as the aviators he shoved up into his hair.

“Dani.” He flicked me a two finger wave as he walked past. “Just had to swing by to see Mick for a second.”

“Mhmm.” I tried to tamp down my smile. Gavin’s attempt at nonchalance was almost laughable. There was always one excuse or another as to why he was stopping by—he lost his phone, he needed to borrow some ketchup, did I have change for a twenty? He was playing my game but making his own rules up as he went. There was rarely a day that passed when I didn’t see him, and when I did my heart floated just a bit, buoyed not by helium but hope. Impossible, improbable hope.

Gavin’s visit in the back was brief, three minutes, no more. He strolled back through the front, hands in his pockets as he perused the posters and pictures on the wall. He tapped the frame of one particular snapshot, which one I was too far away to tell. “You still play at all?”

I snorted out a harsh laugh. “I’d hardly call what I did playing.”

“Don’t short change yourself. You were pretty handy with that uke.”

“I knew a handful of chords.” Glancing at him meaningfully, I raised my eyebrows. “All of them ones you taught me.”

He ran his knuckles along his chin. “I have a proposition for you.”

My hands stilled in their glass drying duty. For a moment, something fluttered in my chest before I stomped it down, squashing it. I gave him a wry look. “Unless it involves you, me, and a quick ten minutes in the back room, I’m not interested.”

His mouth opened and closed. He held up a finger. “Let’s just put a pin in that a minute and come back to it.” Swinging a leg over a stool, he cozied up to the bar and rested his elbows on top of it. “Do you have any plans next weekend?”

“Yes.” I lifted my rag a little higher in the air. “I’ll be working.”

He thumbed his nose. “Other than working?”

“Other than working? No. But—”

“What if Mick gave you the weekend off?”

I pursed my lips. I was not going to talk to Gavin about my finances. “I can’t.”

“C’mon, when was the last time you took some time for yourself?” He stuck his lower lip out just the tiniest bit. “Two days, Dan. It’s just two days.”

That face. I gritted my teeth together, trying to strengthen my resolve. Gavin couldn’t know I never took a time-out for myself, but he’d obviously guessed it. What would two days hurt, really? If I skipped breakfast one day, stretched my lunches one day further . . . it was doable if I wanted to do it. And there was really nothing else in the world I wanted more than to spend time with Gavin. Always in the back of my mind was the soft tick-tick of a clock. Any minute, any day, any hour time could run out.

I sighed. “Fine, two days.”

He scrunched up his nose. “It’s actually three.”

“Gavin.” I threw the rag down on the bar top and it hit the wood with a slap.

“What?” He looked at me sheepishly. “I knew you’d never agree to three upfront, so I thought I’d start smaller and work my way up. Baby steps.”

I ran my hands over my face. Three was only one more than two. It wasn’t that much more, was it? “What could you possibly want to do with me for three days?”

His eyes went wide and he blew out a breath. “For the sake of this conversation, I’m just going to breeze right by that one.” He scooted forward and managed to snag one of my hands. “The guys and I—and the girls—are going to the Hamptons for—”

“No way.” Subsisting on breadcrumbs was one thing. Leaving the city? Hell no. Not even for something as tempting as digging my toes in the sand. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a beach. A memory taunted me, like a wispy curl of smoke, there and gone before I could reach out and grasp it.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“I didn’t have to.” I gently tried to wiggle my hand out of his, but he twined our fingers together instead. “If it involves leaving the city, then the answer is no.”

“Tell me why.”

“You know I can’t.” I gave my hand another tug.

He held on. “Just, generally. I can’t counter your arguments if you don’t even tell me what they are.”

Frustration crept along my skin like a bad case of poison ivy. “Sometimes . . . there are places I need to be. On short notice.”

His lips twisted to the side. “In the city?”

“Yes.”

“Randomly?”

“Yes.”

“When you say short notice, do you mean a day? A few hours? Maybe just a few minutes if you’re hiding a secret superhero identity?”

“Gavin, just stop—”

He plowed on. “Because if it’s hours, the Hamptons are only two away. Two.” He held up the corresponding fingers. “You can have carte blanche with my car. Day and night. Just in case.” The key clicked as he placed it between us. “Whenever you need it. No explanation needed.”

I opened my mouth, but he beat me to the punch. “And before you ask, the house belongs to a friend of a friend of a friend who is in no way famous. No one will know we’re there. We can even send out a decoy announcement that we’re headed to Cali or Barbados or Trinidad and Tobago. Anywhere.” He gently ran a finger over my knuckles of the hand he still hadn’t given up on holding. “We don’t even have to leave the house if you’re worried about it.”

Outwardly, I gave nothing away. Not so much as a twitch on my face. But inside, inside I was at war with myself. Again. This thing with Gavin was nothing but constant battles between my head and my heart. His plan wasn’t a great one, but it wasn’t quite terrible either. A two hour drive when Dad always gave me at least three to meet him in an emergency, a ghost for the media to follow, a house belonging to no one in particular.

It was the kind of plan that had enough thought put into it to make my heart start floating again.

I sighed and gave his fingers a squeeze. “I don’t know, Gav. It’s a risk.”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Some risks are worth taking.”