Chapter 22: Ask Me Now

I came into the kitchen at seven the next morning and found him at the island with a cold cup of coffee.

It was the same kitchen and the same hour as the morning we were interrupted.

He hadn't slept either.

"You said the gate was open," I said.

"I did."

"I walked through it. This is the kitchen."

He set the cup down.

"I wanted you to hear it from me before you heard it from anyone," he said.

"I didn't want to be the thing that made you stay."

"You aren't."

I crossed the room.

"Nobody made me stay. Not Adele, not the clause, not the roof. You think I'd be standing here in my socks at seven in the morning for a contract?"

His mouth moved.

"I said ask me later," I said. "Ask me now."

"Gill."

"Ask."

"Will you stay?" he said.

"Yes."

He looked at me for a long moment, and then he put out one hand, palm up.

"Push me to the window," he said. "Please."

I went still.

It was the second rule from the study.

In all the weeks I had never once touched his chair without being told.

I took the handles and pushed him across the kitchen to the tall window.

The sunlight lay across both of us, and the glass held the whole bright sea.

I set the brake with my foot.

"Thank you," he said.

I came around the front and knelt between his knees.

"The rule said touching was only if it helped," I said.

"Does this help?"

"Tell me."

"It's helping."

I put my hands on his thighs and slid them up.

His hands tightened on my hips.

I undid his belt, and the button, and he lifted his hips so I could draw his clothes down.

He was already hard.

I took him in my hand and looked up at him.

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