Just as climbing from the bed before he woke had been. “This is the place,” she said, hoping to end the conversation. Witt put his hand on her arm when she would have gotten out of the car. “I’m not going to let you step back, Max. Last night was too damn good for that. I want it again. And I’ll take it if I have to. I’ll make you beg if I have to.” In the dim morning, his eyes were a dark, stormy blue that should have made a skinny thing like her quake. “I’ll beg,” she said simply, “if that’s what you need.” “It’s not. All I want is the middle ground.” “And what’s that?” She didn’t mean to sound flippant, but middle ground had never been beneath her feet for long. “Halfway. You give. I give. Like last night.” She filled her lungs with air, then blinked to clear a sudden ache. “I do try. I’ll keep on trying.” She tugged on her lower lip with her teeth. If she really was trying, she’d tell him about Bud. She should tell Witt. She didn’t.
