Her voice slinked in past the defenses he let drop and curled inside his chest, filling it near to bursting. His hand, which had been content to rest on her hip, instead made the journey up her spine to the base of her neck and held her closer.
"Every night?" he asked, wanting to hear it again. How he wanted that. He nearly asked her to give up her apartment right then and there and come live with him permanently -- but no. No. They weren't there, yet, despite the fact that he wanted them to be. No, she deserved the time she could have to herself, for now. They'd fight; they were both independent and head strong, and they would fight. He didn't know if it would be bad enough for her to want to go back home, when they finally did here. And if it was, he wanted her to have a home.
But he hoped, he sincerely hoped, that even after fighting, she'd still stay with him. It was a foolish hope, he thought. She was so... mercurial. That was the best word for her. Gorgeous and smart, strong... and her heart was like the wind. He could only dream to catch it.