Page 79 of Reckless
“It does.”
I turned.“No.It means a seven-year-old has better instincts than most adults.”
Kelly glanced into her mug.“I’m not discussing my beauty with a man standing in front of my teacher shrine.”
“Teacher shrine,” I repeated.“That’s one word for it.”
“Don’t start.”
I looked around the room again.There were no expensive objects displayed to prove design taste.
“Your place is warm,” I said.
Kelly’s expression changed.“I can open a window.”
“No that’s not it.”
“What then?”
I looked back toward the couch, toward her like she belonged so fully to the room.
“Because my homes and world aren’t this real or warm.”
The admission sat there longer than I would have preferred.
She found my face with that too-perceptive face and said, “That sounds lonelier than being alone.”
It wasn’t the word I would have chosen.I leaned one shoulder against the wall by the bookshelf and folded my arms.“I like being efficient, no mess.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I know.”
“Do you always answer feelings with management language?”
I almost laughed.“It’s how I live.”
“That is disturbingly sad.”
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“It was to me.You saw beyond my family.”
Her expression shifted again to a potent smile.
There was a growing awareness that being near each other had stopped feeling like mere chemistry and started feeling, private way neither of us particularly trusted.
I should have said something clever.Instead I crossed back to the couch.
Slowly enough to give her time to stop me if she wanted, but she didn’t.
I sat, not in my original place, but closer.Far enough that I wasn’t crowding her.Near enough that the shift mattered.
Her breathing changed, but she closed her eyes and said, “No.”
She set her mug down carefully on the side table without taking her eyes off me.“Is this the part where you tell me to kiss you.”
