Reflected in You: A Crossfire Novel

not your scene,” she shot back. “You hate crowds.”
    “Just gotta establish some personal space, that’s all.”
    Shawna rolled her eyes. “You can’t be a bruiser everywhere.”
    The talk about crowds had me thinking of Gideon and his protective streak. “Mind if I bring the guy I’m seeing?” I asked. “Or is that a buzzkill?”
    “Not at all. Does he have a friend who’d like to come?”
    “Shawna.” Mark was clearly shocked. And disapproving. “What about Doug?”
    “What about him? You didn’t let me finish.” She looked at me and explained, “Doug’s my boyfriend. He’s in Sicily for the summer taking a culinary course. He’s a chef.”
    “Nice,” I said. “I dig guys who can cook.”
    “Oh, yeah.” She grinned, then aimed a glare at Mark. “He’s a keeper and I know it, so if your guy has a friend who’s fine with filling the empty seat with no possibility of a hookup, bring him along.”
    I immediately thought of Cary and grinned.
    But later that day, after Gideon and I had spent quality time with our personal trainers and had returned to his apartment for the night, I changed my mind. I got up from the couch where I’d been trying unsuccessfully to read a book and padded down the hall to his home office.
    I found him frowning at whatever he was working on, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The glow of the monitor and the spotlight aimed at the photo collage on the wall were the only sources of illumination in the room, which left much of the large space in shadow. He sat in the semidark, bare-chested and beautiful, alone and powerfully self-contained. As he always did while working, he looked solitary and unreachable. I felt lonely just looking at him.
    The combination of the physical distance caused by my period and Gideon’s understandable decision to sleep separately stirred my deepest insecurities, made me want to cling tighter and try harder to keep his attention focused on me.
    That he was working instead of spending time with me shouldn’t have rankled—I knew how busy he was—but it did. I felt abandoned and needy, which told me I was regressing into familiar bad patterns. The simple fact was, Gideon and I were the best and worst things that had ever happened to each other.
    He looked up and pinned me with his gaze. I watched his focus shift from work to me.
    “Am I neglecting you, angel?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
    I flushed, wishing he couldn’t read me so well. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
    “You should always come to me when you need something.” Pushing his keyboard drawer in, he patted the empty space on the desk in front of him and wheeled his chair back. “Come sit.”
    A thrill rushed through me. I hurried over, making no effort to hide my eagerness. I hopped onto the desk in front of him and smiled wide when he rolled his chair forward to fill the space between my legs.
    Draping his arms over my thighs, he hugged me around the hips and said, “I should’ve explained that I’m trying to clear my schedule so we can take off this weekend.”
    “Really?” I pushed my fingers through his hair.
    “I want you all to myself for a while. And I really, really need to fuck you for a very long time. Maybe the whole time.” His eyes closed as I touched him. “I miss being inside you.”
    “You’re always inside me,” I whispered.
    His mouth curved in a slow, wicked smile and his eyes opened. “You’re making me hard.”
    “What’s new?”
    “Everything.”
    I frowned.
    “We’ll get to that,” he said. “For now, tell me what you came in here for.”
    I hesitated, still stuck on his cryptic comment.
    “Eva.” His firm tone focused me. “What do you need?”
    “A date for Shawna. Uh . . . not really a date. Shawna’s got a man, but he’s out of the country. It’d just be better if we made it an even party of four.”
    “You don’t want to ask Cary?”
    “I thought of him first, but Shawna’s my friend. I thought you might want someone you know to come. You know, keep the dynamic even.”
    “All right. I’ll see who’s free.”
    I realized then that I hadn’t really expected him to take me up on my offer.
    Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face, because he asked, “Is there more?”
    “I . . .” How did I say what I was thinking without making an ass of myself? I shook my head. “No. Nothing.”
    “Eva.” His voice was stern. “Tell me.”
    “It’s stupid.”
    “That wasn’t a