Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(77)

“Wow. That's... crazy.”

“Right? It almost makes the relationship I have with my mom look normal.” I licked my fingers and pushed the plate to the side.

West tilted his head, looking at me contemplatively. “What's up with that? You and your mom. Every time you talk you look like she's going to give you a heart attack.”

I slowly nodded. “Something like that.” I paused, then leaned forward and rested my chin in my hands. “Honestly, we just don't get along well. We never really have. She has a very... traditional... view of women and relationships and careers. It's not one I share, so we butt heads about my job all the time.”

“Isn't she proud of you?”

“I think so, in her own way, but she'd be prouder if I allowed my cervix to expand ten centimeters bigger than it should be to push out a watermelon attached to a body with a mad set of lungs.”

“And there goes any desires I may ever have had of having babies with you any time in the next five years.”

“You thought about having babies with me?” I froze. “Five years?”

“No. Tell your inner commitment-phobe to pipe down, angel.” His eyes twinkled. “I was just saying.”

I relaxed with a whooshing exhale. “Okay, good.”

“You're going to have to stop getting crazy every time I mention something that'll last longer than your period.”

I pursed my lips. “I wasn't crazy. I'm not getting crazy. It was just very random and it shocked me a little.”

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes sparking with amusement. I knew that look—he was thinking I was cute, and I didn't want him to think I was cute, so all it did was make me pout. Which, in hindsight, probably didn't help my case.

“Mia.” He got up and walked around the island. His hands were warm as they grabbed mine, his fingers intertwining with mine to pull me up. He pinned me against the island, and I pushed up on my tiptoes to perch on the edge of it, but he let go of my hands and pushed my back, slipping himself between my legs.

Our eyes met, and I blinked up at him. “What?”

“Do you want me?”

“Yes,” I answered quietly. “I do, but I'm afraid.”

“I know you are, but you need to trust me.” He swept his thumb across my forehead, pushing hair from my eyes. “There's no way this will work if you don't. It's okay to be afraid, but it's not okay to not believe we can do this—and don't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes, Mia. You don't believe we can make this work.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Unlike before, I didn't have a reason.

I had nothing.

“I'm afraid too, but no matter how much I want you, I can't put myself in a relationship that is more likely to f*ck up than be successful.” He cupped my chin gently and titled my head back. “I think you need some time alone, so it's probably best if I don't go with you to dinner tonight. I'll book into a hotel tonight and see you at the church tomorrow. Okay?”

Was he right? Did I need to be alone?

But what if I was alone and my fear took over and made a choice I wouldn't ordinarily have?

I nodded anyway. My throat was closing up, because although a part of me knew he was right, that I did need to be alone to work out what I really wanted and if I could give it my all, it still felt a lot like he was saying goodbye to our relationship.

The same thing I'd tried to do many times.

The same thing I'd failed to do.

He touched his lips to mine in a kiss that was so light it was barely a brush, but at the same time, so strong I felt it all over my body.

He kissed me like he was saying goodbye.

I didn't move as he pulled away from me and walked into my bedroom. The sounds of him gathering his things went through my heart like arrows, but I still couldn't move.

I was afraid—of everything. I was afraid of losing him, of trying to make it work only for it blow up in my face, of the entire situation. I didn't know how thinking it through, alone no less, would make it better.

It wouldn't make it better.

“West.” I jumped off the counter, then paused.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his suitcase behind him. My heart hurt with how beautiful he was, from his handsome face to his strong body, but as always, it was his eyes that drew me in and grabbed hold of me. The blue eyes that swept across my face, that traced the lines of my lips as he waited for me to speak, that finally came to rest on my own bright green ones, shimmering with questions.

“I'm sorry,” I said softly, dropping my eyes to the floor.

“What for?”

For being afraid. For not believing. For not holding my ground before when I said it was enough. For wanting you as badly as I do.

“Everything.”

He released the handle of his case and crossed the room to me. His hands framed my jaw, and he touched his forehead to mine. “Don't apologize for being you, angel. Just, when you think, remember one thing for me. Remember how badly I want you, yeah?” He kissed me once again, this time with more pressure, and I leaned into him, committing the curve of his lips to memory. “See you tomorrow.”

I nodded and watched him go. My stomach dropped with every step away from me he took, and my heart clenched when the door shut.