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He makes a face. “I mean, we don’t have to go through with the marriage; that might be awkward.”

“What does that mean?” My stomach drops slightly.

“I mean, if we are actually dating and getting to know each other better and have feelings, and we’re sleeping together, it might be weird to be married because in three years when we get divorced, do we still continue dating?”

I want to scream at him. I want to ask why he would even think about divorce if this was going to be a real relationship. But even I, as someone who has never been married or been in a long-term relationship before, know that men can be complicated and dense sometimes.

“I mean, it’s up to you,” I say. “If you don’t want to get married, then we don’t have to. I just don’t want my father to suffer.”

“What I worked out with your father is between me and him,” he says, clearing his throat. “And I’m still willing to give him the money.”

“But why?”

“Because he’s selling me a business.”

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” I look at him.

He grabs me around the waist and pulls me to him. His skin feels hot.

“You feel cool next to me,” he says, holding me closer. “You’re cooling me down.”

“And you’re heating me up.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He chuckles, and I just roll my eyes.

“So, you think you’re falling in love with me?” he asks, kissing the tip of my nose.

My heart races slightly. “I may be, kind of, a little bit falling in love with you. I mean, you’re kind of falling in love with me, right?”

“I kind of am,” he says, nodding. “Fuck, wait till I tell my sister and my niece.”

“You’re going to tell them?”

“I mean, I feel like you would want to meet them, right?”

I nod slowly.

“And I guess I should meet Romeo.”

“Oh, my lord,” I say. “He is going to have you for breakfast.”

“Ah, that sounds ominous.”

“I mean it in the best way. He’ll love you. And he most likely saw something like this coming because he already figured out that I was kind of falling for you and that maybe you were of falling for me, too.”

“What? He’s never even met me.”

“But he asked me why you would agree to something like this, and really, there was no good answer.” I look at him poignantly.

“Okay, it’s true. Maybe I did it because I didn’t want to think about you with another man.”

“So, we’re exclusive, then?”

“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he says, shaking his head. “But I guess if you wanted to…” He pauses.

“Oh, you’d be okay with that?” I ask lightly.

“Are you telling me you want to date other men?” He scowls.