“You make it sound so easy.”
“It would be easy. Isn’t it always easy when we’re together?”
“Yes,” she says. “But I put a lot of energy into keeping it that way. Into not letting you get too close. Into reminding myself our little dinner events aren’t dates. I tell myself constantly that you and I are friends, because you don’t want a girl like me and I don’t want a guy like you.”
My jaw locks in place. To hell with the fact that she’s right. I don’t want her to be right. I want her to want me the same way I’m wanting her, even though I know it’s fucking stupid. And unfair. And illogical.
But she doesn’t. And I shouldn’t.
“There’s one to make me feel good,” I grumble.
She sighs, defeated. “You know what I mean. When I decide to take a risk on a guy again, I want it to be someone emotionally available and someone who can support me. Someone who wants me and maybe could even love me someday.” She swallows hard. “That guy, by your own admission, isn’t you.”
“Well, by your own admission,” I fire back, “you aren’t the girl who can go to dinner, fuck all night, and then leave the next morning and not care if I call or not.”
By her sudden flinch, I realize that came across a lot harsher than intended.
“I’m sorry, Haley. I—”
“No. You’re right. I’m not her. And I wouldn’t want to be her if I could.”
And I wouldn’t want you to be.
She crosses her arms over her chest and steels herself my way. She gives back bravado, but I can see that my jab hurt. Yet she fires back with passion and grit, and motherfucker if it doesn’t make me want her more.
I feel like my skin is too small for my body and I’m crammed into this little space so tight I can’t breathe. Stretching my neck, wincing from the pressure across the backs of my shoulders, I try to relax.
The fact this is hard makes me pissy because hard isn’t what we are, and what we are is something I haven’t had with a woman before. If asking her to go with me is going to change that, then I shouldn’t have done it.
I have to fix this.
I turn around and she’s right in front of me, her dark eyes swirling with an emotion she tries to hide on her face.
“Fine,” she says.
“Fine what?”
“Fine, I’ll go. But make damn sure I have my own room because the guidelines are still intact.”
My face breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. “You’re afraid of seeing me naked, aren’t you?”
She flushes. “If I see you naked, I’ll call a cab and come home and bill you the fee. Because I’m not going to make myself miserable. Got me?”
“Yes, madam.”
She extends a hand and I shake it before tugging on it gently and pulling her into my chest. She lets herself fall into my arms.
Her breath hiccups as she looks up at me with wide eyes. My body freezes, relishing the contact of her skin against mine.
God, I want her.
“Jesus has no room,” she says, although she doesn’t make an attempt to step back.
“Yeah. I’m aware.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Seeing something,” I say with a smile.
“Seeing what?”
Seeing how much I can torture myself, it seems.
I stare into her eyes. The hunger for her that gnaws at me is reflected in her eyes. It would take a half of a second to kiss her like she deserves to be kissed.
I could do that. I want to do that more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone. But hidden just behind that need is a vulnerability I can’t ignore and one I’d hurt, and I can’t do that. I won’t. Even if it kills me.
I kiss her cheek. Stepping back, I head to the door.
“Seeing what?” she calls after me, a hint of franticness in her voice.
“Seeing that. Be ready at noon tomorrow. If you have a fancy dress, take it. If not, we’ll get you one in Nashville.”
I stop at the door and pull it open. I look at her over my shoulder. “Thanks, Haley.”
“You’re a giant pain in the butt, you know that?”
Her narrowed eyes give up to a sparkling grin that makes everything all right again.
“It’s been said,” I say. “It’s also been said I have a giant—”
“Stop.” She covers her face. “Just go so I can figure out what just happened here.”
You and me both, Miss Haley Raynor.
With a laugh, I step onto the porch and shut the door behind me.
I pause on the sidewalk and look up at the sky. What the hell did I just do? And why the fuck does it feel so right?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HALEY
Can we call this one a date?” Claire lies on my bed, tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and trying to catch it in her mouth. It bounces off her cheek and falls to my comforter. “It includes family. I think that makes a difference.”