But I also knew I couldn’t tell him any of this. We’d said it was casual. That’s what we—what I wanted. What we’d agreed. And he’d said it himself; he’d only ever had short flings. Who knew if he even wanted anything more?
Besides, the last thing I needed was to rush into something. Not that Jackson was anything like Brad, but I mean, I still had work and the launch—I was still trying to juggle the interns as well—and yet. And yet. All of the noise in my head seemed to quieten when I was with him. And I found myself wanting more. Wanting to know what it might be like to go out on a date. To wake up next to him. To have this be more.
If that were even possible.
Would we even fit into each other’s lives outside of the late nights and great sex?
“I like you, too,” I finally said, feeling a sudden nervousness that I hadn’t felt since our first night together.
“You know, in the few years since I moved in, this might be the most time I’ve spent in this apartment.” His expression was fond but unreadable.
Oh.
Guilt trickled, cold in my veins. Because I was the reason.
Over the last few weeks, any time together had been spent inside, either at my place or his, and I suddenly wondered if there was somewhere else he was supposed to be. Somewhere he’d rather be.
“I hadn’t thought of it like that. In the last year, I’ve spent so much time between the office and home; I’m not a very exciting date.” I forced a casual laugh, or at least what I hoped passed as casual, despite the sinking feeling I had. “Does it bother you?”
“No. It’s nice to enjoy something out of the public eye. Anytime I’m spotted with a woman, even a friend, it’s posted and scrutinized.”
There was something he wasn’t saying, and I blinked, at a loss of how to respond. Because, like an idiot, I’d started wanting more without giving any thought to what that might actually mean.
And even if it didn’t change how I felt about him, I didn’t know that I was ready for all the extras that being with him might entail.
“That sounds awful. I wouldn’t want that kind of attention on me, that’s for sure.”
“So I guess that rules out taking you to dinner,” he joked, not meeting my eyes.
“I guess so.” I brushed an imaginary piece of fluff off of the comforter. “But …”
“But?”
“How do you feel about take-out and cocktails?”
The next night found Jackson,Tiffany, and myself lounging in my living room, drinks in hand and an abandoned card game on the coffee table.
It was the first time since Jackson and I had met that we were doing something I would consider more couple than casual.
I had the distinct sense we were both avoiding a discussion on what we were or where this was going, and I was glad about that. Selfishly, I would rather live in ignorance than have to give this up. I liked what we had right now.
Conversation was easy, even when we weren’t talking about anything at all, and he never seemed bothered when I talked about work or needed to vent after a particularly bad day. Time always seemed to disappear when we were together.
Although, that’s how it had started with Brad.
Another reason I was glad to put off the talk with Jackson.
After dinner, we had half-heartedly tried to play a game called “Oh Hell,” which we’d subsequently given up on, both because the rules were a bit confusing but mostly because Tiff and Jace had gotten embroiled in a discussion about their favorite science fiction films. I had nothing to add, so I sat quietly aside and enjoyed watching them banter.
I ignored the ache in my heart.
“Why is it so hard to believe I’ve never seenStar Trek? It’s so old! I mean, I guess I’ve seen a bit of all of them at some point—original, next-gen, voyager, discovery … Was there another one?” She topped up her martini. “Besides,Lord of the Ringsis where it’s at. Those elves can get it.”
Jackson laughed. “You’re a closet nerd, aren’t you?”
“Honey, I haven’t seen a closet in years. And if I’m a nerd, then I’m fucking proud of it.”
“And yet you haven’t seenStar Trek! I suppose you wouldn’t have a favorite captain then.”
