“I’m sorry,” he said, looking regretful. He’d noticed her flinch. “I thought it would have been obvious. The only person my parents would probably ever approve of when it comes to me is some female version of Eric.”
She laughed softly, the hurt fading a little. “That’s a scary thought.”
“You’re telling me,” he muttered. “It doesn’t matter what my parents think. That’s not why I said it. I was just—”
“Stating the facts. I get it.”
A silence swelled between them, so full of unsaid things, so heavy with doubts.
So rife with longing.
He suddenly looked reluctant.
“What?” she whispered.
“We could stop now. That’d be the smart thing to do.”
“No,” she said emphatically, a frisson of panic going through her at the thought of never seeing him again.
“I’m not saying I want to. Just the opposite. But with everything stacked against us—”
“It would be the wise thing,” she agreed against her will.
“Before we go deeper.”
She looked up into his eyes. For a split second, she saw it all there. The promise. The glint of treasure.
The deeper.
Tears stung her eyes. How could she be expected to give up on that?
“Laila?”
She swallowed thickly, hearing his unsaid question.
“Just give me a little time to think about it,” she replied thickly, ducking her head and moving away.
• • •
They barbecued and ate once it had cooled off on the deck. Laila was determined to enjoy herself . . . to forget for the moment Asher’s suggestion that perhaps they should put a stop to what was happening between them. Besides, his warm glances at her and frequent touches told her loud and clear he was as torn about the decision as she was.
Asher asked her if she wanted to take a walk down to the beach at sunset, and she agreed.
“Look at all those colors,” she murmured as they walked along the edge of the lake and she stared out at the fireball of the sun dipping into the pale blue water. “It’s so beautiful . . . but I resent it a little.”
“Resent it?”
She gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s the ending of a day we’ll never get back.”
“Does that mean you had a good time tonight?”
“I did,” she said earnestly, studying his somber, tanned face cast in the crimson and golds of sunset. “Did you?”
“Yeah. I did,” he said, giving her hand a warm squeeze. But did his smile look a little strained?
“I brought some of my music.”
She didn’t know what made her say it then, when they were both wrestling with their doubts. Or maybe she did know. She resented the barriers that stood between them so much, it made her want to risk something . . .