Misha ignored the part of him that was freaking out; the part that played around with girls and then walked away. The part that knew Bella was too much of a risk, with not enough payout. That was usually the part of him that made decisions, not this part that got all starry-eyed at the mention of relationships.
"You do what you need to do, Bella," Misha said, finally letting his hand drop from where he had been softly stroking her skin, almost without noticing.
"I'll do what I need to do."
He had no idea what that might be, not yet, but he had a feeling things would sort themselves out in the end somehow.