Pierce stands on the other end of the peephole, staring down at the ground. The thought of not answering crosses my mind, but I’ve already done him wrong a time or two today.

“Hey,” I say, opening the door to him with a forced smile on my face. I didn’t expect to see him this weekend after how we left things earlier.

He holds up a bouquet of flowers. “I think I owe you an apology.”

I take them from his hands, bringing the fragrant red roses to my nose. “For what?”

“For blaming you for my problems—for his problems. I know you would never do anything to break my trust, and I need to stop treating you otherwise.”

There’s a pain in the back of my throat. In a way, I just proved him wrong, but I did it with the best intentions. “Pierce, he’s here. He’s staying in Mallory’s room for a couple of days.”

He looks over my shoulder, but the door is closed. Light still shines under it, and I wonder what he’s doing in there. Is he painting? Is he standing where I left him, staring at a blank wall? “Stay with me for the weekend. I can’t stand you being here alone with him.”

That’s when the real struggle begins. The one between doing what I should and doing what I want. I should stay here—make sure that Blake is okay, but I want to disappear with Pierce.

“Can you wait outside?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.

He groans, eyes burning a hole through Mallory’s closed door.

“I don’t want any drama tonight. Please … just wait downstairs. I’ll pack a bag and be right out.”

He hesitates. I know this isn’t easy for him, and it’s not a picnic for me either. He nods. “Okay. I’ll give you five minutes, but then I’m coming back up.”

“Nice compromise, Stanley.”

He smiles. “I’m working on it.”

As soon as he’s gone, I throw a few things in a bag and slip on a pair of shoes. I’m about to leave when I hear a crash in Mallory’s bedroom.

I open the door to find Blake curled in a ball on the center of the bed. I want to run to him—hold him—but I need to draw the line.

“I’m leaving for the weekend,” I announce from the doorway.

“He deserves you.”

“What do you mean?”

“As much as I hate him, he’s a good guy. He’ll protect you in ways I’ll never be able to.”

Before I close the door, I say, “I am still here for you if you need anything.”

As the door closes, I swear I hear him say “All I need is you” but I block it out, convincing myself that it was just my imagination playing tricks.

Pierce is leaning against a gray sports car when I step outside. He grins, and I can’t help but return it. When we are close enough to touch, he wraps his arms tightly around me, forcing me to drop my bag. He pulls me into a kiss making my whole body melt into him. He teases—licking then tugging, pulling me even closer. My arms curl around his neck as he leans me back to blaze a trail of kisses along my throat.

“We should go,” I pant, the warmth between my legs almost unbearable.

He reaches back, opening the passenger door for me without breaking the mood. He turns us around, slowly letting me go so I can sink into the seat.

His small car moves quickly down the barren streets, his hand resting on my upper thigh through every turn. I want so badly for him to curl his fingers between my legs, to make everything better.

The car whizzes into a packed parking garage, winding up to the third floor before pulling into a spot next to the elevator. “We’re home,” he announces, opening his door. Mine is open before I even get a chance to find the knob. He grabs my hand in his while holding my bag in the other.

The elevator closes, and he pulls me in for a kiss.

Then another when we exit in the hallway outside his door.

And again after placing his key in the lock.

As soon as we’re safely inside, my back is against the wall, my legs wrapped around his waist as his lips caress from my collarbone to the exposed skin above my breasts.

“Pierce, please,” I beg, kissing no longer enough to satisfy my desires.

“Tell me exactly what you want. I need to hear you say it.” He pins my arms above my head, taking away all my control.

“I need you, Pierce. I need to know that everything is okay. I need to know we’re okay.”

He moves both my wrists to one hand, using the other to push my skirt up to my waist. I hear his zipper then seconds later, he’s inside me, filling me until it hurts.

His lips capture mine, and I give him everything—my heart, my mind, my soul. When we’re like this, he’s all I think about … he’s all I want.

He thrusts.

I whimper.

He swallows my screams. He finally releases my arms, and I hold on to him for dear life as I clench around him. “Oh God, Pierce. That feels so good.” My body trembles as I come down from the high.

Holding me tightly, he whispers, “I love you.” Over and over again.

“I love you, too,” I say when I catch my breath.

He carries me through the dark apartment, down a narrow hall that leads to a massive bedroom with windows overlooking the city. It’s the kind of view I always had in my city dreams.

Lowering me to my feet, he carefully undresses me, letting my clothes fall onto the plush rug in front of his bed. The city lights are the only things illuminating the room, but I still see the way he looks at me. It’s the way I’ve always wanted a man to look at me; something in his eyes tells me he would give up everything to stay with me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

He makes love to me—slow and tender—and it’s not until after, when I’m wrapped in his arms that I wonder if he tasted him on me.

And, it’s only then that I think about him again. My life is a merry-go-round; I’m not sure which direction I’ll be looking when it finally stops.

As I drift off, the spinning slows, and all I see is that painting.

A WEEKEND TUCKED AWAY in Pierce’s apartment was just what I needed, and as we pull up in front of my apartment on Sunday night, I’m not ready for it to be over.

I learned that he cooks just as well as he makes love. He likes staying in and cuddling on the couch with a movie. He literally checks off every box I had and some I didn’t know I had.

Friday may not have been a good day for us, but I look at it as another sign this is all going to work out. We can fight then make up, and then the next day it’s like it never even happened.

“So, I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

I lean in to kiss him. “Of course.”

“Don’t ever think about taking another job,” he whispers against my lips.

“Don’t ever think about taking another girlfriend,” I chide back.

He presses his lips to mine. “Never.”

Our relationship skipped the pace of a freight train and went straight for jet speed. It should scare me, but we sat side by side for months before the key was even put in the ignition.

“See you tomorrow, Stanley.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

I pucker my lips as if I’m deep in thought. “Hmm, probably not. I like having a man whose last name could be his first.”

“Stanley makes me sound less than—”

“Sexy?”

He laughs. “I think that’s what I was trying to say.” As I climb out of his car, he does the same, grabbing my bag from the trunk. “Do you want me to walk you in?”

“It would probably be better if you didn’t.”

“I still don’t like him being here,” he says, running his long fingers through his hair.

Wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, I stare up into his eyes. “The other night, before you came to the apartment, we talked. He said you’re a good guy … that you deserve me.”

“What?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“He let me go.”

His gaze wanders left to right, studying the few people who walk along the sidewalk. “Don’t be so sure. You’re not an easy woman to let go.”