“Abby, I’m being serious. You’re not the kind of person I’m going to be able to date casually and then watch you leave.”
“Most guys think casual is the only way to date me, so…”
“That’s not what I think.”
“Oh,” I said again. A moment passed.
“So I do want to kiss you. I want to do all of this. I was just hoping to find out whether you’re leaving the country before I do.”
“I don’t know if I’m leaving.” My voice sounded a little wobbly. “I applied for…I mean, I sent in stuff to the Canadian government, for a work visa, but the lawyer wasn’t optimistic, and if something comes up with Laura, or work…I don’t know, Paul. I wish I could say for sure.”
“You met with a lawyer?”
I nodded. “An immigration lawyer. He wasn’t sure how it would go. I started the paperwork, but I can’t promise anything.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s okay. I don’t—it doesn’t necessarily sound to me like you’ll stay, honestly.”
“But I want to.” As soon as the words were out, I knew that I meant them. It was a strange feeling to know that I wanted to stay.
“My mother,” Paul began, “I take care of her. It’s not always easy. But she’s the only family I have, and she needs me, so if your sister needs you, I understand. If things don’t work out for your sister in Atlanta, and you have to go be with her, I mean, even if…you may just want to see your niece more. I wouldn’t want to stop you from the thing that would make you happy.”
I looked at the floor, trying to find the words. “Our mother was an alcoholic, so Laura and I always relied on each other. And now she doesn’t need me, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I keep assuming she’ll need me, but it may be wishful thinking.”
“You want her to need you.” He looked like he was trying to puzzle out something.
“I want to be there if she needs me,” I said. “But I really like it here. And I like you. Kissing you was nice.” I felt like an idiot, confessing to that.
“Nice.”
“Wonderful.” I hated myself for saying the words. I couldn’t pretend it meant nothing, now.
“I just don’t think I can do it anymore,” he said softly.
“Okay.” I tried not to look disappointed.
“I mean, I don’t think I can stay friends.” He came closer. “I just can’t anymore.” He put one hand against my cheek, and then he leaned over, his lips brushing mine, then deepening into a real kiss, pushing me backwards. We were sliding together onto the sofa, my back scattering the pile of Charlotte’s nautical pillows. Now that I finally had him in my arms, I wanted to kissall of him. His neck, his cheeks, his shoulders. One of his hands slipped behind my head, cradling me as he kissed me again.
Then he paused and breathed out a little laugh against my neck.
“What’s funny?”
He pulled back a few inches to meet my eyes. “You really thought I was going to come in here and give you a story about why I couldn’t date anyone right now?”
I looked up at him. “I assumed.”
“That’s what you were assuming the other night?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Because your ex-boyfriend gave you a line about why he couldn’t get married, and then changed his mind?”
“I was trying to be logical.”
“Logical.” He kissed me again. “Abby,” he whispered. One of his hands slid under my shirt, gently gliding along my ribcage. I could feel him against me, my body aching to get closer. He released me gently, resting his lips against my neck, breathing in and out.
“You’re going to break my heart,” he whispered. “But okay.”
“Okay?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.
