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Her head fell back as she laughed. "Damon."

"Because I'm pretty sure Mikayla Parsons just complained that I haven't made a move on her."

"I'm not complaining."

"Sounded a little like complaining."

"I was asking a question."

"And I'm savoring the moment."

She rolled her eyes. I grinned. Then I sobered. This was a serious moment, and I didn’t want to fuck it up trying to be funny. "Because I don't want you thinking that's all this is to me."

Her expression changed. "All what is?"

I gestured between us. "You. Me. Whatever this is."

She took in a shaky breath.

I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand. "I know things have been easy and we've been having fun. And believe me, sweetheart, I am a huge fan of easy and fun."

Her gaze flickered to my mouth. Which did absolutely nothing to help my situation.

"But I don't want you thinking the only reason I'm being nice to you is because I'm hoping to get you naked."

One eyebrow rose. "You're nice to me?"

"Occasionally."

"Hmm, that's debatable."

"I'm a delight," I countered.

"You're a menace."

"A charming menace."

"A persistent menace."

"An exceptionally good-looking menace."

She laughed. Then she shifted closer. Just an inch. Maybe two. But I noticed. Oh boy, I noticed.

"You're being very noble," she said.

I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. "You made the rules, I’m just trying to follow them."

Her face scrunched. "It's unsettling."

"Believe me, I'm just as disturbed as you are."

She looked down at my chest. Then, slowly, she placed her palm over my heart. My breath caught.

It was such a small thing. Just her hand resting against me. But something about it felt more intimate than anything we'd done before.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Anything."