Seeing each other. I hum deep in my throat, liking the sound of that.
She purses her lips, like she’s thinking. “Okay, I’ve gone there more than once. But it’s less than five times. I think.”
“Fuck, Lily.” I glare at her.
She shrugs. “I survived.”
“Barely.”
Silence stretches between us.
Softer, I admit, “You scared the hell out of me Monday night, Lily.”
The words land hard. I can see it happen in the way her gaze drops for half a second. “That’s the problem,” she murmurs.
“No.” I scoot over slowly, stopping an arm’s length away. “The problem is you think you’re alone in this.”
She raises her head, her gaze heartbreaking. “I have been alone in this.”
I take her hand, holding it loosely so she can extricate herself if she needs. “Not anymore.”
Her breathing changes slightly at that.
I force myself to stay still. No pushing. No cornering. Lily’s like that mare out at the barn—too much pressure and she’ll bolt.
Finally she blows out a breath and nods. “Okay. Rules.”
Relief moves through me sharp and immediate.
“Rule one,” she says, “you don’t touch me unless I say it’s okay.”
Easy. “Done.”
“Rule two, you don’t touch anyone else.”
I snort. “Pretty girl, I don’t go around touching anyone.”
Her brow furrows. “Ever?”
“Ever.” I train my eyes unwavering on hers. “Next.”
“Rule three, no demanding information I’m not ready to give.”
I pause at that. “Does it go both ways?”
“Damn it.” She makes a face at me. “It has to, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say, amused.
“Fine. Rule four.” She hesitates. “If I tell you to stop, you stop. No questions.”
“Pretty girl, if you tell me stop, I stop.” My voice goes rough. “But you won’t.”
Her eyes flick to mine and her breath catches.
“And my rules?” I ask.
Wariness returns immediately. “You have rules?”