Page 69 of Bronson

He loves me. He wants me to move in. Hell—he’s given me a diamond ring.

Then why am I left wondering, where do I stand with him?

And when will I gather up the courage to ask him?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bronson

You can’t spank someone into living with you.

Can you?

I shake the notion from my mind.

Paige and I just had our first real fight. And I still can’t figure out why she won’t comply. We’ve been together for over eight months, now. She wears my ring.

What does she expect? To live apart forever?

Is she not as invested in this relationship as I am?

I’m at a loss. She knows how I feel about her. That I love her. More than anything else in this world.

Why won’t she just move in? It kills me to even let one night pass without her in my bed. When she sleeps at the home, who is there to protect her? Pull her close in the middle of the night? Inhale her scent and thank God that she exists?

I can take no more.

Tonight is one of those nights she won’t be in my bed.

I lie there. I pick up the clock, flipping it back and forth in my hands. The weight feels good against my palm. Grounding. I go over the evening in my mind, trying to see where I’d gone wrong.

I’d taken Paige to dinner at that little Italian café what’s his name had taken her to—Buon Cibo. In my mind, that night marked our first date.

The perfect place to ask her to move in with me.

I had held her hand over the table, telling her how much I loved her.

I asked her to live with me.

She declined.

I begged her.

She declined again.

I commanded her.

She asked me to take her home.

I did so. Positively fuming.

I’d dropped her off over an hour ago.

I’m still fuming.

I put the clock down on the nightstand. I rub the back of my neck with my hand.

I need advice.