I skipped the office and worked from home. I was too tired to make the hour-long commute, and I could do pretty much everything at my dining table instead of my desk. Plus, I didn’t have to wear a suit in my own home.
Tucker texted me. Did you talk to her?
I stared at the message, unsure how to respond to it.
When I didn’t text back after thirty minutes, he texted me again. Don’t ignore me, asshole.
How did he know that? Yes. I talked to her.
And?
And we worked it out.
…
I stared at the screen.
That’s all you’re going to give me?
What do you want me to say?
Are you together? Did you fuck?
I didn’t like to talk about Cleo when we were just friends, and I definitely didn’t want to talk about her now. We’re together.
That’s awesome, man. I’m happy to hear that.
I dropped my guard when I remembered Tucker just wanted me to be happy. Thanks.
So…is her ass as good I imagined?
I turned angry again. Tucker.
Come on, you gotta tell me.
Ask me again, and I’ll put you on life support.
Fine…keep your secrets.
By the end of the day, I hadn’t seen Cleo.
I’d expected her to come by my condo at some point.
But she didn’t.
I assumed she was busy with work, so I didn’t bother her.
When dinnertime arrived, I lost my patience and texted her. I thought you would stop by sometime.
Her response was immediate. I’m still at the office. It’s been a long day.
Join me for dinner. It’d been a long and lonely month without her, so I wanted to be with her, talk to her, make up for the time we’d lost. I didn’t just want to take her to bed. I missed the other aspects of our relationship, the thing that made me fall for her in the first place.
I need thirty minutes.
That’s perfect timing. I went into the kitchen and prepared dinner, grilled chicken on a bed of rice with Brussels sprouts and asparagus. I’d just finished when there was a knock on the door.
“It’s open.”
Cleo stepped inside, dressed in the same outfit she’d put on that morning, an olive-green pencil skirt with a cream button-down shirt tucked into the waistband. Her five-inch heels were back on her feet, giving her the height that would make it much easier to kiss her than it was last night.
“Don’t knock.” I grabbed two plates and set them on the counter.
She walked across the hardwood floor, her heels echoing, and she stared at me, slightly bewildered by my order.
“Just come in.”
She came into the kitchen and joined me at the counter. “I don’t want to invade your privacy—”
“I don’t need privacy from you.” I turned off the burners and faced her, her eyes only slightly lower than mine because in those heels she was five-seven instead of five-two. Her makeup looked as fresh as when she put it on that morning, and her plump lips were a sexy shade of pink. Her blue eyes might be my favorite feature…because they held such kindness, such innocence. Everyone else in this city was riddled with scars, but she still had that small-town-girl quality.
She watched me, her eyes doing that thing I loved—when they relaxed, dropped slightly, filled with a little bit of emotion. The corner of her mouth rose slightly, not making a full smile, but acknowledging the warmth my statement made her feel.
I knew how to be with a woman, but I’d never truly been in a relationship before. My marriage to Valerie entailed my fidelity, but I didn’t kiss her when she walked through the door, didn’t hold her while we slept, didn’t hug her for no reason at all. And all the other women before and after her were just flings.
This was my first real relationship.
So, I just did what I wanted when I felt like it, and right now, I wanted to kiss her. My arm slid around her waist and hugged her lower back, bringing her into me, her chin tilted up like she already knew what was coming.
I brought her lips to mine, giving her a soft kiss that lasted longer than I meant for it to because I struggled to pull away. It was combustible just like last time—the chemistry, the sparks, the physical desire all there. It was just a kiss, but it was enough to make me see the stars, to lose my breath a little, to feel more than I’d ever felt in my life.
I was a man full of nothing.
But she made me feel everything.
I released her but continued to stare, the thoughts swirling in my head like uninterpreted data. I tried to organize everything, to find concrete reasons to explain my feelings, but everything was too complicated for me to understand.
Her hand slid underneath my shirt and rested on my hip, her thumb against one of my abs. It gently rubbed across my skin as she looked up at me through her thick lashes, like she felt everything I’d just felt.