My heart slams against my ribs.
“What are you doing in here?” I manage, voice barely above a whisper.
His throat bobs as he swallows. His eyes flick down for a second before jerking back up to my face, like he’s trying to undo what he saw but can’t.
“I—I didn’t mean—” he starts, but the words crumble.
And then, like a sudden shift in gravity, he takes a step back. And then another. Like the sight of me bare, vulnerable, trying to move on is too much.
“Will?” My voice cracks.
He pauses, hand tightening on the edge of the curtain. Doesn’t look at me. Just stares at the floor, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling like he’s drowning in something invisible.
“You’re going out with him,” he says. Not a question. Just a quiet observation, like the words themselves wound him.
“Yes,” I say, lifting my chin, even though my voice trembles. “I am.”
Silence stretches so tight I think it might snap.
“I shouldn’t have come in,” he says finally. His voice is rough. Frayed. Like he wants to say more but doesn’t trust himself to.
And then he steps back fully, the curtain falling closed between us.
I stand there, half-naked, heart racing, wondering if I just imagined the way he looked at me?—
Like maybe he did want to stop me. But couldn’t.
8
Trey takes me to a cozy, well-loved Italian place in Sheridan, all brick walls, wine bottles, and flickering candlelight. The food’s amazing, the drinks flow easy, and we laugh more than I expected to.
He’s sweet and charming. He holds the door open and compliments my dress. He kisses me gently in the parking lot after dinner, his hand on my waist, lips warm against mine.
But there’s no spark. No static in the air. No ache in my chest.
By the time we pull up to my apartment, I know exactly how the night will end. And it won’t be with another kiss.
Trey parks and turns to me with that easy grin. “So?—”
“I—” I blurt at the same time.
We both laugh, the tension breaking for a moment.
I gesture toward him. “You first.”
He nods, expression softening. “So, this was fun.”
“Why do I sense a but?”
“Because there’s one.” He smiles gently, the kind of smile that tells me he’s not upset. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”
I blink. “Wow. That’s not what I was expecting.”
His brow lifts. “What were you going to say?”
I let out a slow breath. “Basically the same thing.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
