“Wes, I—” I had to stop and push him back. His nearness caused my brain to misfire. “I get that you think so, but I’m not there yet. And I—”
“Stop,” he commanded softly, cutting me off. “I know you aren’t. I have every confidence you will get there. But how are you going to if you don’t get to know me?”
Damn him for using logic. He was right, of course. Not that I’d admit that out loud. “Still, it’s probably better if I go to my own place tonight.”
“Okay, listen, Julian,” he said conversationally. He took my hand so I couldn’t move away, then leaned one hip against the desk next to me. “I’m going to be honest and say that I don’t like the ideaof you being vulnerable, with your magic depleting, at home by yourself tonight. So this is what I’m offering—come home with me, let me cook you dinner, stay the night. I’d prefer it was in my bed, but I have a guestroom if you’ll be more comfortable there.”