Page 80 of Reckless
Heat punched through me with such clean force I almost swore.
One brow lifted and I let out a slow breath.“You’ve been thinking about that sentence.”
Her face gave her away before her mouth could.Just one little flash of color.Enough.
“I think about a lot of regrettable things,” she said.
I should have backed off but instead I said, “That one didn’t sound regrettable.”
Kelly’s fingers tightened once in her lap.I leaned in by instinct now.Not by much.Just enough that the tension sharpened and she had to feel it as something physical instead of theoretical.
She didn’t move back.
“Xerses.”
I searched her mouth and back to her eyes.Then let myself say exactly one true thing and nothing else.“I do like being near you.”
I watched the recognition move through her in visible stages, surprise, heat, resistance, that volatile little pull toward something she knew better than to trust easily.
And then, because Kelly was still Kelly and honesty from either of us apparently had to be paid for in sparks, she said, “That feels like my cue to put more space between us.”
I almost smiled.“Then why haven’t you.”
She looked at me for one devastating, fully conscious second.
Then she said, “Because I like this too much.”
God help me, so did I.The thought should have been a warning.
Instead it felt like standing on the edge of something and realizing you had already stepped closer than you meant to.
“Good,” I said, and my voice had gone lower again without permission.“That makes two of us.”
Her lips parted.I wanted to kiss her.Bad.But that was why I didn’t.
What happened between us has to be her decision and I’d not push in the first place she’d invited me after asking for space.Instead I reached past her and took her empty tea mug from the table.
The motion brought me close to feel her breath catch.
I set the mug beside mine on the coffee table and sat back.
The restraint cost me more than I wanted it to as my body was rigid.
I knew because the expression on her face shifted from heat to something far more.I held her gaze and she said, “Thank you.”
I winced but asked, “For what?”
“For not making everything that happens between us feel like you’ve already decided how it starts and ends.”
Damn.I stilled but nodded once.“I heard you the first time.”
Her face softened, enough.
Outside, the evening had deepened.Blue sliding toward black beyond her windows, but neither of us moved toward it.
Eventually Kelly stood first and walked to the window, drawing the curtain halfway more from habit than modesty.I watched her do it and followed the line of her back and ached to brush the loose knot out of her hair.
When she turned back, she found me watching and said, “You are impossible.”
