“What time is it?” I asked finally.

“Around one.”

I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. “Are you just getting back?”

“No,” he said, and though I couldn’t see his face or the expression that accompanied it, I saw him run a hand through his hair. “I’ve been sitting downstairs for the last two hours.”

My heart pounded and I wasn’t sure if the darkness was a blessing or a curse. He’d been downstairs for two hours? “Why?”

He laughed a little dryly. “I’ve been thinking about what we did earlier.”

“Oh.”

“You’re not surprised?”

I pushed the hair from my face and wondered how honest I should be. “I think I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“I’d say consistent,” I told him. Silence stretched between us until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He stayed quiet for a moment before I sensed him nodding. “I think so. Yeah.”

I smiled into the darkness, realizing what a leap this was for him.

“I was thinking about how confusing this must be for you. And how I’ve probably got you turned upside down with mixed messages about our physical relationship.” He paused and took my hand in his, brushing a fingertip over my palm to stop at my wrist.

“I told you I wanted to take things slowly, and then . . .” He turned, pulling his knee up onto the mattress to fully face me. “And then I reacted how I did, put the lipstick on you . . .”

“I didn’t mind that,” I admitted. “I know we can’t always script these things. Sometimes you might do something in the heat of the moment and then find yourself questioning it later. As long as we’re honest with each other, I don’t think there’s any right or wrong way for this to go.”

He considered me for a moment before offering a simple, “Thank you.”

“And you’re not the only one who has a tendency to overthink things,” I told him. “I might just be better at blurting things out or running ahead.”

“That actually makes me feel better.”

There was a beat of silence. “As long as we’re being honest, can I ask you a question?”

He squeezed my hand. “Of course, darling.”

“Does part of you wanting to go slow have to do with what I told you last night?”

He was silent for another moment and I felt him shift on the mattress.

“After what he did to you,” he said, “I feel like I should be—”

“I need you to stop right there,” I said. I was right. It wasn’t just about his hesitation to dive in; he didn’t want to rush me, either. “I told you what happened with Paul because I trust you, and because you asked. I want you to have an idea of the pieces that make me who I am, just like I want to know about you. What happened to me will never go away, because it’s a part of my past, but I don’t want you to handle me differently because of it. I’m not delicate and I don’t need you to be careful with me. Not like that. You need to trust me to tell you where my limits are, just like I need you to tell me yours.”

He leaned forward, rubbing his hands over his face. “That’s just it, though. I feel so out of my depth,” he said. “That we can so readily communicate these things is still a bit of a revelation. My marriage was a lonely place, for both of us, I’m sure,” he added quickly. “And I’m terrified that that wasn’t just a Niall and Portia thing, that it’s me. I know I don’t say enough and what if y—someone, tires of having to pull every little thing from me?”

“Niall—”

“And what if after the rush of conquest wears off, you’ll realize that I’m not what you’ve built me up to be? I . . . I’m not quite sure how I’d deal with that.”

“I know how different we can be in that way,” I told him. “You feel like you don’t share enough and I’m the opposite.” He laughed, reaching out to brush the backs of his fingers along my cheek. “And if we’re being honest here, it is frustrating when I have to try and decipher what you’re thinking. Like this morning? I’m not saying I’d need to be privy to every thought in a man’s head . . . but I do need someone who can talk to me. Who can step outside their comfort level and meet me halfway. I want that for myself.”

The room filled with a silence so heavy it was like a third person, towering above us.