Page 105 of The Incredible Ordinary

“No,” he says. Shakes his head. Says “No!” more forcefully.

I blink, trying to catch up.

“I want to,” I say. “I… I like it. I’m into it.”

Milán grabs the back of his neck and turns away, muttering something under his breath before he turns to look at me again.

He lets out a harsh laugh. “You don’t know what you want.”

There’s a spark of annoyance. More than a spark. It’s a growing wave.

“I’m sorry?”

“How was your date?” he asks pointedly, and when he looks at me this time, there’s a sneer on his face.

“My date?” I repeat.

“Your date.” His face tightens along with his shoulders. “Don’t tell me,” he adds quickly. “Just…”

He blows out a breath and drags his fingers through his hair.

“Look, you’ve had a few messy weeks, yeah? It’s… You don’t know what you want, so let’s just both take a deep breath, go to bed, and put this behind us. And then come morning, we’ll… pretend it didn’t happen.”

He gives a firm nod, eyes me carefully for a bit, then turns on his heel and walks out, leaving me standing in the middle of the bathroom.

I listen to the bedroom door close behind him. I feel completely numb while I flick off the lights and go to my own bedroom. I close the door behind me and lean my back against it.

The last few minutes replay in my head, second after second. I replay the feel of his body against mine. The tips of his fingers digging into my skin. The swipe of his tongue over my lower lip.

His hard length pressed against mine.

He wanted me.

Idon’t know whatIwant? I don’t think he does. Or at least, he’s not willing to admit it for some reason.

Or… Do I know what I want?

I straighten my back.

This is stupid.

I’m annoyed now, and this is fucking stupid.

I pull my door open and march to the guest room.

I knock. The sound of my knuckles against wood is too loud in the darkness.

The door is pulled open almost immediately.

I square my shoulders and lift my chin.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

He steps aside, and I follow him into the room. I close the door behind me and turn to face him.

“I’m interested,” I say. “Unless it wasn’t clear.”

Just as he says, “I’m sorry. That should never have happened.”