Page 91 of Rogue's Path

“That makes two of us.” How can I feel so strongly about a woman who I know so little about?

She burrows her face into my chest. “I don’t want us to fight again.”

I didn’t know we were. “Never again.” Which is probably a lie since we’re bound to butt heads on occasion. “We won’t let anything pull us apart again.”

Road Trip

Dylan

This has been the weirdest eighteen hours of my life, and somehow, I think it’s not going to stop feeling weird.

We still haven’t talked. But could I have? Not coherently. My minor meltdown took so much out of me that when I changed, all I could handle was doing exactly what I am now, sitting on the couch in Rogue’s ‘living room’.

“You ready to get on the road?” Rogue pokes his head into the apartment.

Am I? I barely tolerate road trips on my own. Being stuck in a truck with a man I barely know for days, possibly a week, will be a trial by fire. “Let’s do it.”

Rogue holds out a hand to me.

After he left me alone this morning, I might have snooped around a bit. There’s not a single sign of a woman in his room, even in the kitchen area, which only seems to have beer, protein shakes, a couple of steaks in the freezer, and coffee. I set mine in his.

His fingers fold around mine as the sexiest smile spreads across his face.

As soon as we step outside of his room, everything becomes sterile and white. I wasn’t really paying attention when we walked here yesterday. “Where are all the doors?”

“Hidden.” Rogue makes turn after turn, going upstairs then downstairs with only two doors in sight on each level.

Why would they do that? “It’s a maze. Tell me the doors are traps, because that would be wild. This way, if there was an invading force, they would have a hard time finding anything. And if you had secret tunnels, you could move around and get the jump on them.”

Rogue stops to look at me. “I love how your mind works.”

“Which means I’m right.” EEEEEEE!

“Only old ladies get to know the answer to that question.” He winks at me.

“Most people would find it insulting to be called an old lady.” I mean, I’m not a spring chicken or a perky cheerleader anymore—not that I ever was—but still.

He steps forward until we’re close enough that I can smell his cinnamon toothpaste. “They don’t understand what a compliment it is. Every time I call you my old lady, it’s me telling you and the world that you’re the one I want to spend forever with. The one I want to grow old with. The one that I love above everything else this world has to offer. So no, Peaches, we won’t have that problem.”

WOW! “Is it getting hot in here?” I fan myself even though I know the temperature didn’t change.

“We could make it even warmer?” He leans down so close.

“You can’t kiss me.” Fool. Why did you say that? You want him to kiss you.

“No, I can’t. And I won’t.” He doesn’t move a muscle.

Why isn’t he— “You want me to kiss you.”

His grin says it all.

Initially, I made the rule because I thought he was with someone else. Then he had to go and say that. “Challenge accepted. Don’t think I can be tempted. We’re going to take this time to get to know each other without the distraction of kissing. You know you turn my mind into mush.”

“I had an idea.” That grin turns positively sexy.

“Just because you could be the morally grey main character in a romance novel, doesn’t mean I’m going to be the weak woman that falls for your wicked charm.”

His chuckles fill the hallway, echoing back at me.