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Will said nothing.

“Not a real one,” I said quickly. “In fact, we don’t have to go anywhere. Just take some pictures. I just… they really responded positively to you.”

“Do you really think that’s the answer to your problems?”

Now irritation joined the nerves inside of me, thrumming in my chest. “I do, actually. When the readers are excited, when they want to come back, it all translates into more people staying on the site, and clicking the links, and seeing the ads.”

When I put it that way, I knew it sounded cheap. That sharing my thoughts on food and having people try my recipes wasn’t the same as clicking on advertisements.

I didn’t care. I was in too deep now. “It would sure as hell help pay the bills anyway.”

Will downed the last of his glass of wine, then abruptly stood up. “Well, I’m flattered, I guess.”

He didn’t sound flattered. “Will, it’s not about you. It could be any guy, but you’re here, you were in the photos, and they liked to see me happy.”

“Now I’m really fucking flattered,” he said, his voice hard.

This had gone south fast. How had things started so high, and plummeted so fast?

You.

I shoved that aside, clinging to my anger like a weapon.

I gritted my teeth, standing up too. My head spun but I ignored it. I couldn’t look right at him so I focused on what was in front of me. His chest. The little curl of hair rising from his collar.

“That wasn’t meant to be an insult—I just… it wouldn’t be for very long. Just a couple of dates. I know there’s not much in it for you, but… I could pay you? Once I start getting more revenue.”

God, that sounded pathetic. But when I forced myself to look up at his face, I saw he wasn’t just insulted. He was furious.

“Do you really think that has anything to do with it? I want to help you Michelle, I really do. It’s just… fucked up. And to what end? You don’t even like the blog.”

“That’s not true!” Now I was furious. He didn’t understand. Ineededthe blog. I’d already broken my promise to Joe. I couldn’t throw this away, too.

“Fine, you love your blog. So why don’t you ask someone else to do it?”

“Because you were already in it.”

“You just said I could be any guy, Michelle. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?”

When I looked up, the expression in his eyes knocked the breath out of me. He didn’t even have to touch me—his eyes pinned me in place, my pulse surging.

But I want him to touch me.

I was so confused, so sure I’d been right about everything. But as Will took a step toward me, I suddenly knew. Asking him over here to help with the blog wasn’t all of it. Not by a long shot. It was him I’d wanted.

“Michelle,” he said, fury still sending steel through his voice. “Don’t you see? I don’t want to be any guy.”

My stomach lurched. I was standing at the edge of a sharp, precipitous cliff. Balancing on its knife-edge. Joe was on one side, Will on the other. And right now, I was leaning hard toward Will. Confusion roiled inside of me, but burning hotter was need. Need for this man, right here in front of me. This living, breathing, man radiating heat and fury. Everything was falling apart, and the smallest thing would tip me over the edge.

“Michelle—” Will said, his voice tight. “I want you.”

His hands went to my jaw just like before. Only this time, he didn’t move. Something cracked, sending lightning exploding through me in a sharp, jagged line.

My body moved toward him without me knowing what I was doing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his. Electricity shot through me, making everything inside of me go liquid. Will was stiff, frozen where he stood.

Then he moved, fast and hard. He gripped the back of my head and placed his other hand at the small of my back, pulling me to him. Blood rushed in my ears, my pulse skipping at double-speed as Will’s tongue, urgent now, parted my lips, finding mine. I stumbled and he caught me, walking me backward, pressing me up against the wall. My mind was suddenly and wholly filled with only one thought.

Will.