The Proposal(35)

“Are you going to come inside?”

He tried not to grin as big as he wanted to, but he was pretty sure he failed. His terrible day had officially turned around. He couldn’t wait to pounce on her as soon as they walked into her apartment.

As she unlocked the door to her building, he thought of something.

“Did you get your locks changed?”

Fuck. Why did he ask her that? She’d snapped at him once for bringing that up. What was wrong with him?

She held up a brand-new key.

“Last week. I felt stupid for doing it, but then I remembered what you said about how feeling silly is better than the alternative.”

Oh thank God, she wasn’t mad at him.

As they walked up the stairs to her apartment, she smiled wryly.

“I also convinced Courtney and Dana to take a self-defense class with me. Well, it’s really more of a boxing class, actually.”

Well, he hadn’t expected that.

“Wow, that’s great. How was it?”

She stopped at her front door to unlock it with the new key.

“It was surprisingly fun. There’s only been one so far, but I’m happy I’m taking it.”

“That’s awesome. I’m impressed.”

He was also glad that she’d trusted him enough to tell him she was doing it. And flattered that she’d gotten her locks changed at least in part because of something he’d said.

When they walked into her apartment, he was ready to throw her down on the couch, but she walked into the kitchen before he could reach for her.

“Do you want some wine?” she asked him.

Hmmm. He couldn’t be wrong about why he was in her apartment, could he? He had been here before, and nothing had happened then.

No, this was different. She’d seemed like she’d wanted to pull his clothes off in the car. Maybe she was just nervous now that they were back at her apartment? He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he’d better take her lead on this.

“Sure.” He sat down on the couch. “More of that rosé, maybe?”

She laughed and opened the refrigerator.

“I think you’re making fun of me and my rosé, but I don’t even care, because I love it. As a matter of fact, yes, I do have another bottle of rosé open now—though this time it’s a different one—and I’m going to pour us both glasses of it, take that.”

She came over to the couch with glasses of wine for each of them. Okay, she sat down right next to him; she was clearly not keeping her distance. He put his arm around her and pulled her close.

“I have to confess I have been known to make fun of my sister for her love of this wine, and it kills me that I actually liked the one you gave me last time because now I might have to eat my words to Angie.” He took a sip. “Actually no, there’s no way I’d do that. But this is terrible—I definitely like this wine.”

He let his fingers drift into her hair, and she relaxed against him.

“Oh no, you’ve discovered a kind of wine that you like, and it happens to be pink wine. What will you ever do with yourself?” She swatted his thigh. And then left her hand there. “You can’t possibly let a woman know that she was right about wine; that’s impossible.”

He shook his head. He finally pulled that ponytail holder out of her hair and let her curls spring free.

“No, that’s not it. I’m happy to let women know they’re right about many things. My boss was right about the diagnosis of the kid I saw today. You were right about the books I bought for Jessie. Jessie was right when she told me I’d get into med school. It’s just that I can’t ever admit to my little sister that she was right about something I’ve been teasing her about for years. Come on now.”

“Mmmm.” She looked up at him. “I’m an only child; it’s possible that I don’t get all of the big brother–little sister relationship nuances, so I’ll that one go.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh! What did Jessie say her favorite of the books was?”

He was trying to concentrate on what she was saying, but between her fingers gently massaging his knee and feeling her sigh as he stroked her hair, his mind was in many places.

“Um, what did she say? Oh! She said her favorite was the Jeffrey Dahmer book. I don’t understand either of you. If I read those books, I would have nightmares for weeks.”

She set her glass, still half full, on the coffee table.

“People have said that to me. Maybe I just don’t have very vivid dreams.” She brought her hand up and drew it through his hair. She plucked his glass out of his hand and put it on the coffee table next to her own. “Or maybe I just dream about other things.”

He smiled. The preamble was apparently over. He turned to face her and pressed her down onto the couch until she was underneath him.

“Yeah? What is it that you dream about?”

She grabbed the bottom of his button-down shirt and pulled it over his head.

“This.” She pulled him against her and kissed him.

Mother of God. He thought he liked kissing her when they were making out in the front seat of his car, but that was clearly only an appetizer. There, she’d seemed enthused, but still tentative. Now, she was both passionate and forceful, as if to make it clear she was all in. Her hands moved under his T-shirt and up and down his back, pressing him harder against her. He moved his attention to her neck, kissing her smooth brown skin.