“You keep looking at my ass like that, and I won’t give you this coffee I just made for you. I’ll spread you open on the bar first and make you come again.”

His mouth. I really liked his dirty mouth. “That’s not much of a threat,” I replied. I walked over to take the cup he was holding in his hand.

He slipped his other hand around my waist, cupping my bottom. “Glad you feel that way. Not sure you’re getting out of here anytime soon.”

As wonderful as being locked up with Tripp and having sex all day sounded, I had to be at the course by three. I was working the last shift of the day because I had worked so late last night.

“I have to go to work,” I reminded him. “And you need to stop touching me while I’m holding hot coffee. I don’t want to burn you.”

He sighed and slipped his hand away. “When will you get off work?”

“Close to seven,” I replied, then took a sip of the warm goodness in my cup.

He ran his hand through his hair and looked at the wall behind me for a moment. I knew he was thinking, and that made me nervous, but I drank my coffee and waited. We didn’t have a definition for what this was we were doing. I had my own fears, and I knew he had his.

If I hadn’t attacked him this morning after waking up to his hard cock pressing between my legs, then things wouldn’t have escalated. Now that they had, we were going to have to reevaluate. This wasn’t casual dating with sex. We had history. We had feelings and emotions already running deep, and then there was the way he looked at me after sex. All that made this a lot more.

“After this morning, I don’t think I can be without you. I want you with me. I don’t want space. I want you here. With me. All the fucking time. I want to be able to hold you when and where I want. I want to go to sleep and wake up with you in my arms. Bottom line, I need to know where we stand. Where’s your head at?”

My head was still replaying the amazing sex we’d had. I wasn’t ready to think past that. “I have to get ready and go to work. And you’re right, we need to talk. But for now, can we just be us? No labels. Just us?”

He frowned. “Does being ‘us’ mean that if I want to grab you and kiss you in a public place or call you just to hear your voice, I can? And that you’ll come sleep here with me every night?”

Sleeping with him every night was the one thing I wasn’t sure of. I wasn’t ready to depend on him. My questions about his plans for the future and his relationship with his parents still hadn’t been answered. I wasn’t sure he could answer all that now.

“Yes to everything but the sleepovers. I think for now, we should have a few boundaries. Lines we don’t cross. Just to make sure we aren’t moving into something we aren’t ready for.” Or that he wasn’t ready for. He loved living on the road and moving from place to place. How long before he remembered that and resented me for being the thing holding him here?

He let his head fall back as he muttered a curse. He didn’t like that line.

I set my cup down on the bar and slipped my arms around his waist. “It’s not that bad. You just . . . you need to make sure this is the life you want.”

“Sweetheart, you in my bed every night is exactly the life I want. I’ve wanted it since I was eighteen. I don’t need to make sure of anything.”

I so wanted to believe that. “Here’s where we stand, Tripp. You didn’t go to college, and you’ve only got experience as a bartender. I’m not sure how you’re living without a job right now, unless you get paid really well to be on the board at the club. Me, I didn’t go to college, and I’m a drink-cart girl at a golf course. We don’t have any idea what our plans are for the future. I’m the girl from the trailer park who’s used to growing up living paycheck to paycheck, and you’re the boy who was supposed to be the heir to the Newark legacy. But you ran from that life because you didn’t want it. So here we are. Do you really want to get a job as a bartender in Rosemary Beach when your savings run out? I doubt that very much. And this condo isn’t big enough to raise a family in, so when you get married, you’ll need to get a house. We both know you can’t afford a house here, so you would have to move.” I stopped and felt panic rising in my chest. This was all the stuff I didn’t want to think about. “All of that is why I need boundaries. I need to protect my heart some. Because when you leave here, because you will—you’re meant for bigger things than being a bartender—I will be left here to pick up the pieces.”

When I moved away from him, he let me go. I was afraid to look him in the eyes after that. He hadn’t been thinking about any of it. He had been living in the now. I had just shown him the future.

I couldn’t trust Tripp with my heart, because with him, it was forever. I didn’t think about any of this with Jace. He had thought I wanted a proposal because I’d mentioned it once when I was drunk. But the truth was, I didn’t plan the future with Jace. Deep down, I had expected him to leave me, too.

“You’d better get ready if you don’t want to be late,” Tripp said, breaking the silence.

My stomach sank, and tears stung my eyes. There were no reassuring words or even emotion in his voice. He wasn’t even trying to convince me that there would be a chance with us. He knew I was right.

I stepped back and nodded without looking up at him, then hurried to his room to get the clothes in my bag and leave. I changed and threw the clothes from last night into my duffel. I would not cry. The pain in my chest would not shatter me. I was going to be OK. I was going to be OK. I was going to be OK.