“Yes.”
“Want—more,” I gasp while the tremors continue in my core.
“Soon, love. Soon.”
It’s not usually like this.
Dating.
Screwing around.
Whatever you want to call it.
Every time I’ve dated anyone, we’vedated.
Evening dinners several nights a week.
Then his place. Then I’d get home late and hope my brothers didn’t know what I was up to.
But with Simon—we have to fight for time.
Either he’s with his boys, or Daphne or one of my brothers needs something, or I’m booked somewhere.
He’s leaving soon.
I’m staying soon.
And we’re still fighting for these moments of time between the other slices of everyday life.
And when we get them—they’re electric.
“Simon?” I whisper as his breathing evens out on the other end of the phone.
“Yes, Bea?”
“You are my favorite part of this summer.”
He makes a soft sound halfway between a chuckle and a sigh. “You are a most unexpected treat.”
“Is it helping?”
“Helping what?”
“The publicity. Helping your career.”
A long stretch of silence lingers on the other end of the phone.
“Simon?”
“I…have a confession.”
I blink at the ceiling. “A confession?”
“No one suggested that I see you for the publicity or visibility or any other trickery involving any form of the press.”
“No one—what does that mean?”
“I merely wanted an excuse to continue to see you…without having to confess to even myself how much I wished to continue to see you.”
