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He seems to think about my answer and moves closer, nestling between my legs. He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and I have to tilt my head up to look into his deep green eyes.

“It’s nothing, really. It’s just a room.” He says it so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

“No, it’s not. It’s so much more for me.”

I straighten up and brush my lips on his. He tenses a bit, but when I kiss him a second time, he gives in and grabs my hair, making me moan softly. I put my arms around his neck and enjoy his embrace. I enjoy his tongue exploring my mouth, his possessive grip around my waist, his erection pressed between my legs.

After a very long time, I feel like I belong somewhere. Even if this life is just a pretense, it feels more real than the last eight years of barely surviving on autopilot.

The thought is scary enough to make me want to run far away before my heart shatters.

I peel my eyes open and the first thing that comes to my mind is the searing kiss Raphael and I shared last night. Just one kiss, like the night before, but it’s more confusing than anything. If we were having sex it would be easier. It would be just that: sex. You can have fun with someone attractive without having feelings for him, right? But just kissing—something between platonic and fucking each other’s brains out—that feels more intimate.

I turn toward Raphael and sigh. He’s still asleep. He is on his back, one hand over his chest, the other bent under the pillow. His hair is messy, giving him an innocent look. A ray of sunlight filters from the window and illuminates his face. His long lashes caress his high cheekbones, the tanned skin making his straight nose stand out, and his full lips are so kissable they’re hard to resist. He is gorgeous and he is not mine. I have to remember that.

He stirs slightly and opens one eye. I’m still staring at him when he smiles.

“Good morning.” His voice is rough and does funny things to my lower belly.

“Good morning,” I whisper back, hoping he doesn’t notice I was ogling him.

He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand and turns toward me. Far enough to not touch me, but close enough to make me quiver.

“What time is it?” He frowns.

“It’s almost nine thirty. We slept in.”

“We’re late.” He smiles but doesn’t move.

“Late for what? It’s Saturday.” I try to remember if we have some appointment I forgot about.

He smiles. “Remember when I told you I was craving a steak yesterday? I may have gone a bit overboard at the market, and I invited a few friends over today for a small gathering.”

His lips are still curved upward, but I read expectation in his eyes, like he’s not sure if I’ll agree to this or not. This is his home. I would never tell him to not invite friends over.

“Oh, okay. I’ll find something to do. I can shop for some furniture for my office.” I’m not sure it’s the right thing to say because his smile fades.

“What? No! You’re invited too. I’m not kicking you out.”

“Okay…” My answer comes out sounding insecure.

“And for the record, if you want to invite someone over, you can. You know that, right?” he rushes to add.

“Now I do, thank you.” This time my voice is firmer. “What time are they coming?”

“I told them to get their asses here by ten to help me set up.” His guilty smile makes me quiver, but his words make me sit up with a start.

“Ten in the morning? Like in twenty-five minutes?” I scramble out of bed.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” He chuckles as I run into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, I’m showered and dressed in a tank top and shorts, popping grapes into my mouth while I watch Raphael sort out the steaks he bought yesterday.

“Oh, honey, that is not craving a steak, that is full-blown shopping spree. At least, the male version of it.” I giggle when he realizes he bought way too much.

He laughs. “Shit. This is why Dave was looking at me like I’d gone crazy.”

“Probably.”