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“Let’s consider it a down payment.”

“Sheesh.” I blow a breath hard enough to lift the hair off my forehead. “You’d think I’d at least get the house tour by now.” More of a double meaning since he also hasn’t brought me to his house. Then again, he hasn’t been in my apartment either.

He cups the side of my face, thumb moving beneath my eye, unexpectedly tender. “This isn’t a casual fling for me. I hope it’s not for you either.”

I reach up, and I coast my knuckles through his beard, across his full lower lip. “No, it’s not. You’re the first person who’s made me feel like me. And I’ve missed me. I can wait for you to fuck me, the real me.”

He takes my wrist, all his muscles bulging. My breath stalls.

“Trust me, Jubilee. When the time comes, you won’t have to wonder whether I want you.” My mouth becomes his favorite focal point. “When I finally want you badly enough to snap, you’re not going to see it coming.”

My pulse kicks.

His forehead settles against mine, his voice unfairly soft. “And I’m not going to promise to rock your world or blow your mind. That’s amateur shit. I’m going to fuck you so deeply that every version of you—past, present, and future—is going to remember my fucking name.”

Oh. “Okay.” My voice is barely a rasp.

“That’s my girl.” He releases my wrist and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“I work this weekend. I’ll be sleeping.”

His forehead wrinkles. “Right. Sorry. I forgot our hours aren’t nearly as compatible as our chemistry.”

I study him for a second. All these weeks of breakfast dates and museums and late-night messages. Him fitting into the pieces of my life, which were empty for so long, I’d stopped noticing the gaps. “I like you, Gage. Really like you.”

He tilts his head with that smile I love, halfway between sweet and insane. “Princess, would it completely freak you out if I told you I’m somewhere between like and love?”

My heart misses a beat hard enough to hurt. I should panic. Instead, my whole body leans in without my permission. “No. I think I might be somewhere around there too.”

Regaining my senses, I kiss him briefly. Short and sweet. I’m still smiling when I climb out of the car, which is probably why I forget to button my coat.

The night wind flicks the edge of my skirt and whips the lighter strands of my hair across my face. Gage waits until I reach the building before pulling away, and I wave as his headlights flash once in response. I move toward the stairs and nearly walk straight into my landlord.

Trent Tyson. “Well, well. Miss York.”

Shit. I count the steps to the door behind him.

His exploration starts at my face and travels slowly, lower and lower. “Almost didn’t recognize you. You’re looking quite fresh tonight.”

I pull my coat closed. “Thanks.” I try to step around him, but he grabs my arm.

“You are your mother’s daughter, aren’t you? She’s a beautiful woman when she takes care of herself too. Like you when you’re not hiding behind all that goth trash.”

I yank my arm free. “Leave me alone.”

His mouth tightens. “Your mother pays weekly.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “I’d let you pay monthly.”

The meaning crawls over my skin like insects. “No.”

I move toward the apartment, but his voice follows me. “Fine. Maybe I’ve been too generous with her. She can start paying daily.”

I spin so fast, my heel nearly slides. “No!” The crack in my voice gives him exactly what he wanted.

He traps my chin. “Your choice, sweetheart. Once a month from you, or once a day from her.”

I slap him away. “Fuck you.”

His smile turns ugly. “Think about it. You’ve got one week before I come for the next payment.”