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Gathering her feet onto my lap, I start rubbing her soles. Moaning, she throws her head back. Even when pissed at the situation, my cock responds to her.

“Up a bit.”

“You’re such a brat, you know that?”

She laughs and grabs the remote, selecting the movie anyway. “I know you like this one. I can tell.”

“Oh yeah?” I run a finger across her sole, and she squirms, pointing the remote viscously at me. “Yeah. You’ve been off all night. So, it’s more your mood than the movie.”

Goddamn her.

Taking the remote from her outstretched hand, I press pause and drop her feet. “Come here.”

She rises to her knees and moves across the couch.

“Sit here.”

Sitting across me, I readjust her so she’s straddling me, and my dick strains against the zipper of my jeans.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, I look deep into her eyes, hoping to find answers. “If you move to Seattle, I’d want you here.”

She pulls back. “As in, living with you?”

I nod. “Yes, Rocket. As in moving in with me.”

Her face pales slightly, and my stomach twists at her reaction. “Don’t you think that’s a bit fast?”

“It happened for Jon and Felicity.” I run my hands up and down her bare arms. “When you know, you know, right?”

She drops her head.

Panic rises in my gut. “You know, right? You haven’t said it back yet, and I’m hanging in here.” I blow out an uneasy breath. “But do you feel for me what I do for you?”

Lifting her head, she strokes her soft thumb underneath my still puffy and bruised eye. “I feel so much for you. But?—”

I want to hurl. “But, what?”

“I don’t know how to say this.” She shifts on my lap, and I’m about three seconds from puking. “But what if I make the move here and then in six months’ time, I’m not enough?”

My voice is incredulous. “What?”

“I’m having a bit of a crisis, I guess. What if I leave everything I’ve ever known, and in six months you meet someone else? Someone more you’re…” She gathers her hair up furiously andthen lets it cascade down her back, her vanilla scent wafting over me. “More your type.”

That cuts really fucking deep.

“I’m not that shallow,” I choke out. “You’re every kind of beautiful.”

She drags her palms down her face. “I know. I know. It’s just the media, the press, Amie, the women you normally go for. They’ve got in my head. What if I’m a rebou?—”

“No!” I shout, louder than I intend.

She pulls back from my raised voice and drops her head onto my chest. “I’m sorry.”

I feel the dampness seep into my shirt as her shoulders tremble.

“Luna, what have I got to do to prove to you that I’m all in?” I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

“This is on me,” she pushes out through sobs. “This is all on the media too.”