When I wake up the next morning, I’m the only one in the bed. Even Bessie and Balaster are nowhere to be seen. I panic as I get dressed because I forgot to buy perfume yesterday. And I chastise myself for forgetting.

“Good morning.” Dylan greets me with a kiss as I enter the kitchen. “Bessie and Balaster followed me out of bed. They’re enjoying the morning sun.”

He points at the two of them sunning themselves by the window.

“I have to go,” I say in response.

“What?” He flinches like I’m about to flee.

I know he’s reading my energy, and my energy says I want to bolt right about now. I woke up thinking about my mother and how I can get her the money. But I’m not about to leave the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just need a moment alone to gather my thoughts.

I smile calmly and try to breathe. “I just have to go to the department store. I never went yesterday.”

“Can I come?” he asks me.

“No.” I kiss him. “Can I borrow your car, though? The least expensive one.”

Dylan gives me the keys to his Mercedes.

“No. Least expensive.”

“That is the least expensive.”

“Jesus, Dylan.” I groan. “What happened to a used sedan or a pick-up truck?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I drove those growing up but not in a while.”

“I think you should drive my car. We’ll go to my apartment later, and you can drive my ten-year-old, beat-up sedan. Just for kicks.”

He laughs. “All right. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I have the urge to ask him if I can have that in writing, but I restrain myself. I wave good-bye and leave for the department store.

I feel like an imposter as I drive through L.A. in Dylan’s Mercedes. I turn on the radio and focus on the road. I feel like all of Los Angeles must be staring at me. At the poor girl in the rich Mercedes.

I go to the store by my work, and I head straight for the cosmetics counter.

I find Ruby XO right away. But I stand there for an interminably long time staring at the bottle behind the locked glass. Maybe I should try a new scent, something that’s all me. Maybe it’s time to move on.

“Can I help you, dear?”

I look up into the eyes of a saleswoman. Her white hair pulled back into a bun frames a kind face. She smiles at me. “Do you know what you came here for?”

I shake my head and walk away.

I get about thirty feet away when I turn back.

“Yes,” I say to her. “I do know.”

When she hands me the bag and my receipt, I thank her and leave. As soon as I get outside the building, I reach into the bag and unwrap the bottle of Ruby XO and spray the scent on my wrists and neck.

A whiff of the smell hits my nose, and I choke. I cough my way to the car, feeling like I’ve been poisoned.

I grew up without a mother, so I don’t know why I keep feeling the need to pretend otherwise. I turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

By the time I pull up to Dylan’s driveway, I’m doing better than I was, but I’m still not quite myself.

He buzzes me onto his property, and I park the car. Then I school my expression before I walk into the house. I can hear the TV as I turn the corner into the living room.

“Hi.” I give a friendly wave and forced smile.

“Hey, babe.”

Dylan’s hanging out on the couch. I nearly melt when I see Bessie on his lap and Balaster curled up by his side, but I swallow the emotion down.

“You ready for our drive?” I take a seat next to him.

He turns off the TV and puts his arms around me. “You’re wearing that perfume again,” he says into my neck.

“I just bought a refill.”

I clench my jaw and pull out of his arms with the excuse of saying hello to the kitties.

When I finally raise my eyes to his again, he takes my chin in his hand.

“Jasalie, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” I try to keep my voice light, but Dylan frowns.

“We’re not the best liars, are we?”

I break into a laugh.

“What’s going on?” he says again.

“I woke up thinking about my mother,” I tell him honestly. “About how to give her the money.”

“Do you want to run through your options?” he asks me. “I can help you figure out a plan.”

I kiss his cheek. “Later, yes. Right now? I’d rather just have some fun.”

We return Bessie and Balaster to my apartment, and this time, Rosita is lying in wait like a lioness. Her eyes nearly come out of her head when she sees Dylan, and she struggles to control herself throughout our brief visit.

She recognizes him from television and tells him this at least ten times. She also repeatedly mentions that she knows “nothing about sports” but she adores “a strong man.”

“Okay, great.” I give her a look to shut her up.

“Jasalie, you look happy.” She turns to Dylan. “Jasalie’s been so lonely. Her last boyfriend was the pits.”

“Rosita!” I glare at her.

Dylan stands between us, the grin on his face getting bigger.

“We’re leaving, and I won’t be home for two days,” I say as a way to end the conversation. “Thank you so much for taking care of the cats. I promise to take you out for an amazing dinner—just the two of us—when I get home.”

Rosita waves away my thanks. “I’ve got nothing else to do, and the kitties keep me company.”

Dylan tells her good-bye, and we go to leave, but before I can stop her, Rosita launches herself into his arms.

“You seem like such a nice man. Take good care of Jasalie. She comes off all tough, but she’s got a very tender heart underneath all that strength.”

Oh. My. God.

Dylan’s arms go around her in a hug. “I know she does. I will.”

“Rosita.” My face is on fire. “Let go of him.”

Another pat to Dylan’s cheek from Rosita, and we’re finally down the stairs and around the corner.

“Sorry about that,” I mutter as we reach the carport.

Dylan cups my cheek with his hand. “She cares about you. You don’t have to apologize.”

He’s right. I nod into his hand and kiss the palm quickly.

Then I gesture to my car. “Here she is. Ready to try her out? I’ll drive first.”

“Sure. I’ll park my car in your space?” Dylan says.

I can’t keep myself from laughing. “Yeah, that’s the safest thing to do. I’m laughing because this won’t cause too much talk in my complex; ‘Jasalie’s car has mysteriously upgraded to a Mercedes.’”

Dylan’s expression changes for a second, but then he ducks into his car so fast I can’t ask him about it. I go about moving my car out of the carport. Then, he puts his in, and as he climbs into the passenger seat of my car, I say to him, “What were you just thinking?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“You’ll freak out, and I don’t want you to. It was just a fleeting thought.”

I keep the car in park. “What is it?”

“Just hypothetically speaking, go with me on this, okay?” he says. “Think of it like a fantasy football game.”

“Okay.” I put the car into drive and pull into the alley.

“In my fantasy, I wish we could live together, Jasalie. At the house in Malibu. It could be ours.”

I freeze and hit the brakes.

Dylan pauses, not speaking, like he’s waiting for me to freak out.

And I do. Sort of.

I want to freak out. I expect to.

But…

Part of me loves the idea of what Dylan’s suggesting too much to completely turn him down.

“I couldn’t afford one hundredth of the monthly mortgage,” I finally say in a weak attempt to present an argument. “Even in fantasy terms.”

“I paid for the house in cash,” he says. “Nobody’s paying a mortgage.”

Shit.

“Cash? You paid for that house in cash?” I keep calm as I take a right out of the alley and head toward the ocean.

“Yes.”

“Wow. You must have a very big salary.”

“You really never looked me up on the web, did you?” His voice is amused.

“Of course not. I didn’t want to learn about you on paper.”

“Well, you’re one of the few.” He puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes. “Which I appreciate. But yes, I signed a new contract two years ago, and it’s substantial.”

“Like eight figures substantial?”

“Try nine.”

Nine figures—

“Dylan, I can’t even wrap my head around that kind of money.”

“You will once you get your own business going.”

I glance over at him. “Right.”

“Your sculptures are worth a lot, and I’m not joking. Trust me on this, Jasalie—I’m an expert at picking out talent.”

“Dylan, that’s sweet. The thing is we’re not matched to live together.”

“What are we matched to do?” he asks me.

“To be in a fantasy land. A hotel, for example.”

“So we can’t live together outside of a hotel.” He says it like a flatline.

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “Hypothetically speaking of course, I’ve just always paid my own way is all. It would feel like too much.”

“What about if we shared utilities and groceries equally? I wouldn’t be writing checks for anything else anyway because the house is paid off. That way, you would be doing what you normally do at your apartment now. But we would live together.”

“How is that any different? You still paid for the house yourself. I’d feel like a guest.”

“But it is what it is right now. I mean we could rent an apartment together in the city, hypothetically, of course, but you know how much houses cost in L.A.”

“Yes, I do.” I pause. “I really do hate my apartment.”

Dylan clears his throat. “That’s the fantasy reason to move in together?”

“No. The fantasy reason is…”

I really love you.

We come to a red light, and I lean over to kiss him. “I just would want it to feel balanced.”

“I know.” He kisses me back.

“And this is all just talk, anyway,” I say, catching myself.

I put my foot down on the gas pedal harder.

“So what do you think?” I ask Dylan a while later. “About my car?”

“It’s good. It’s a little uh…jerkier than I’m used to,” he says as we struggle to get up a steep hill, and I have to press extra hard on the gas.

I smile over at him. Yes, my car definitely jerks as it switches gears, but we make it up the incline successfully.

“Bring back memories?” I say.

“Oh, yeah. My first car was way worse than this. So was my second one.” He pauses. “Can I drive it?”

“Sure.” I pull into a drugstore, and we switch seats.

Dylan grins as he puts the car into drive. “I’ll take us on a ride, baby.”

I laugh and buckle my seat belt.

Dylan drives until we reach the coast, and then he pulls over to a deserted beach and turns off the car.

“The whole place is empty,” he says, looking around the parking lot.

“It’s L.A. in February. No one goes to the beach this time of year.”

He returns his gaze to mine, and something in his expression makes my stomach clench.

“What?” I say nervously.

His hand goes to my hip. “I want to touch you like you touched me yesterday.”

My heart comes up into my throat.

“I want you to trust me that much, Jasalie.”

“I don’t know.”

Dylan leans me back against the door and reaches for the button on my jeans. “Why not?”

Giving is one thing. Receiving is another.

I try to breathe and collect myself.

But Dylan’s undone the button now. The ache between my legs is growing, and I’m losing my willpower.

“Dylan. I want to. I do. But I should tell you something first. It’s just that…”

He removes his hand from my body and sits back. “What is it?”

“No one’s ever done this with me before. Used their mouth.”

“Never?”

“No.”

Dylan’s eyes turn feral. “Get in the back.”

I raise my eyebrows. “What?”

“This is your first time. I want to do this right.”

Oh. God. My nipples are hard and painful as I crawl into the back seat of my tiny car.

Dylan opens the driver’s side, shuts it behind him, and then returns to the car through the back door.

His eyes hook mine as his hands immediately go to my waist. My jeans come off easily. So does my underwear. He spreads my thighs so he can kneel between them, and I exhale and allow myself to be vulnerable.

With his hands braced on my knees, he looks at me.

“So what do you imagine it will be like?”

“Going to the gynecologist,” I say immediately.

He fights a smile. “Seriously? Why?”

“How could having a tongue down there feel good? And lips?” I shudder. “It just sounds so…oh, Jesus, Dylan.”

His first tentative lick between my legs has me trembling.

“How’s that?” he asks as he looks up at me through half-lidded eyes. “Are you having doctor nightmares yet?”

“Do it again,” I demand, my thighs already shaking around his head.

He gives another light lick, this time dragging his tongue all the way through my hot center.

Now I’m clawing at the car seat.

Dylan’s head comes up, and he focuses on my face. “You taste like heaven and rain and flowers. You’re drugging me, babe.”

“Holy shit, Dylan.” I grab the hair on his head with one hand. “Please don’t stop.”

“Is that what you tell your gynecologist?” he teases.

“Shut up.” I press his head back between my legs. “Just keep touching me like that.”

When he puts his mouth on me this time, he doesn’t let up.

He licks and sucks and kisses, and my moans get louder with each passing second. By the time he heads south, I’m ready to freaking explode.

One gentle thrust inside with his tongue is all I need. An orgasm so enormous takes over my entire body that by the time I stop calling out Dylan’s name long enough to remember my whereabouts, I’ve got his head in a vice-like grip between my thighs.

I release my hold, and he looks up with a smile.

“Best doctor’s appointment ever, I’d say.”

I tug at his disheveled hair. “I’d tell you to stop teasing, but I’m far too euphoric to bother.”

Dylan trails a line of kisses down my inner thigh. “I’m far from done with you, Ms. Gordon.”

I stare at him like he’s nuts. “I can’t possibly…”

But his mouth is back between my legs. “You can,” he murmurs as he nibbles at me, and I let out a delirious cry. “One orgasm from oral sex in a lifetime is unacceptable.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and for the first time in my life, all I do is feel. For the next three minutes, I feel nothing but pure bliss—the building of pulsating pleasure through my body, all focused on the nerve endings between my legs. One of Dylan’s large fingers slips inside me while his tongue continues to circle my most sensitive area. It’s sensation overload, and I come again.

Before I can fully return to the real world, Dylan’s pants are down and he’s seated on the back seat. He grabs my ass and pulls me on top so I’m straddling him.

“I don’t know if this will work,” I say. “I’m so sensitive.”

“Just see how it feels,” he says. “We’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

His hands on my hips guide me down onto his heavy erection. As soon as I feel his hardness greet me, my body takes over. I sink down onto him in one fast move, bringing him inside until I’m fully seated on top of him.

“Christ,” Dylan bites out as his length disappears inside me completely. “Fucking Christ, Jasalie.”

He roughly pulls up my shirt and lowers my bra until my nipples pop free. He takes one fully into his mouth and sucks me so hard I grip onto his shoulders. He uses one hand to rub my free nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and his other hand circles behind to grip my ass.

Using his shoulders to anchor me, I start riding him fast and hard. I throw my head back, giving Dylan better access to my breasts, and he takes full advantage. I’m already so sensitive from his mouth that just the air alone turns me on, and when Dylan drags his thumb down to my belly button and keeps going, the orgasm building inside of me isn’t something I’m prepared for. I sink down onto him hard and then pull up as I reach my release. He groans and cries out my name as he follows.

His climax sends my already-coiling orgasm spiraling into space. He moves his lips off my breast so he can fuse his mouth to mine as I finish riding him.

When the waves of my release finally stop, I lean my head against his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around my back. I’m drenched in sweat. And exhausted. I don’t think I can move. I feel like I just showed a sacred part of myself to him. I gave Dylan everything just then, and I don’t know how to pull myself back together into my protective shell. I also don’t know that I want to.

“Best. Sex. Ever,” he whispers into my ear. “You are so fucking under my skin, Jasalie Gordon.”

I kiss his neck, trying to stop my body from trembling.

“You’re seeing all of me,” I mumble into his skin. “Nobody sees all of me.”

“You’re safe with me, Jasalie.” His lips graze my cheek and finish at the corner of my mouth. “I promise you’re safe.”

I lift my gaze to meet his.

He locks eyes with me in that way where I feel like I’m the most important person in his life. And I finally say what’s in my heart. Because even though he could break my heart in half, I can’t let this affair end without telling Dylan absolutely everything that’s in my soul. I’ll regret doing anything less. And living with regrets is the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.

“Dylan.”

Jasalie says my name like she’s never said it before. Something about her tone and the way it rolls off her tongue—it’s like she’s simultaneously desperate and determined to tell me what’s on her mind.

“What is it?” I ask her, my arms wrapped tightly around her warm, naked body.

“Dylan Wild, I love you.”

Time stops.

I thought the best moment of my life was when my team won the Super Bowl. I was sure I’d never reach that kind of a high again in my life.

I was wrong. Because this moment here, with this woman in my arms, is pure heaven. With no cameras, no applause, just her and me as she shows me her heart.

“Jasalie.” I kiss the side of her mouth. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

She tightens her arms around my neck. “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t want to break up tomorrow.”

Thank fuck.

“So let’s not then.”

She tips her head back to look at me. “Are you sure? Because you said you didn’t want a commitment either. You never said anything about continuing past Arizona.”

“All of that is true. However, I changed my mind on the no commitment thing a while back.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure of the exact moment. But sometime in the last week you’ve gotten so inside me that I can’t imagine ever spending another day apart from you. I want you at my games. I want to go to your first gallery show. And I want…a lot more than that. I want everything with you, Jasalie.”

She brushes her lips to mine. “Me too.”