Paisley laughed, but there was no humor in her tone. “I knew that was a mistake,” she muttered. “Count on the guy who used to hate me to send out the calvary.” She shook her head and glanced to the side, meeting my eyes for the first time that night. “So, how did you find me?”
“You aren’t the first off-duty responder to hang out at this bar after a shitty shift,” I said. Paisley smiled then, but it wasn’t genuine. There was something behind that smile, a secret she didn’t want me to know. A never-ending chamber of secrets. She was full of them, this girl. As soon as I discovered one, another merely rose to the top of the barrel, darting into corners and hiding away.
“Thanks for stopping by,” she said. “But I’m golden, cap. You can report back to the others that I said so.” She turned away from me again, eyes focused once more on that stupid wall behind the counter.
“You know, you can talk to me,” I said.
“You’re my boss, Hansen.” Paisley raised the glass to her lips and took a long swallow, not even flinching as the liquid went down. She placed the now-empty glass back onto the counter and signaled for another one, which the bartender dutifully refilled.
“I may be your boss, but I’m still a person.” I felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her as a sign of support and encouragement. But also, for more. Because seeing Paisley in this state fired up a side of me that I didn’t even know I had. I felt an overwhelming desire to protect her, both emotionally and physically. I wanted to see her happy, not getting drunk somewhere in a downtown bar, alone and upset.
“That’s not the vibe you were giving off this morning,” Paisley said bitterly. She tossed back the shot of the whiskey in her glass and then signaled Joe for another fill. Before I could respond, she rambled on, “Besides, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“You’ve got work tomorrow,” I reminded her.
“We’ll see,” Paisley said. Before I could ask her what she meant, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to look at the time. I caught a glimpse of the screen: thirty-six missed calls. Jesus. She shoved the cell phone back into her pocket and stood up, swaying a little as she signed her tab. I reached out to steady her, but she brushed me off, scowling a little.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Going home?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have a ride?” Throwing some extra cash on the counter for Joe, I gathered up my jacket and followed Paisley out to her car. She was mumbling to herself as she walked, and twice she almost face-planted it. As she dug for the keys in her purse, I pulled her back gently, wishing I could get inside her head and know what she was thinking. All I wanted was for her to talk to me. To confide in me.
“What do you want, Hansen?” She didn’t sound angry with me; just tired. Frustrated. Defeated. My hands slid on either side of her arms, my eyes searching her face for something, anything, she could tell me. I took the keys from her fingers and dropped them onto the car’s hood.
“I want you to talk to me,” I said. “I want you to tell me that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” I took her face between my hands, trying to get her to look at me. She swallowed hard, and I watched as her body seemed to relax under my touch. As I waited for an answer, she finally looked at me, and before I could even figure out what was about to happen, she leaned forward, her lips meeting mine in a whirlwind of confusion, desire,lust…
Paisley’s tongue slipped between my lips as one hand reached up and ran her fingers through my hair. I sucked in a breath, dizzy with anticipation, kissing her back. Passion clawed at me. The desire to have her in my arms was so overwhelming I couldn’t function. I wanted her. I needed her.
I pushed her back against the car as I kissed her, our tongues dancing, hands grappling at each other like desperate teenagers on a Friday night. She felt so good against me, so familiar, as though I’d known her touch all my life, her love, her passion—
“Paisley, stop.” I caught her wrists in my hands, drawing back, panting for breath. Her eyes searched my face as she chewed her bottom lip, a loose tendril of hair falling into one eye. We were both breathless, panting, wanting more.
“You don’t want to,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know what happened with you and Jeremy, but I can’t do this.” Every word that flowed from my mouth felt forced, a blatant lie sitting like a brick in my throat, threatening to choke and expose me.
“Why not?” Paisley asked, and the sadness in her voice sent a shard of ice through my heart. I couldn’t even face her now.
“I’m with Julia,” I said. “I’m not an unfaithful man, Paisley, and I won’t hurt her like that.”
Silence settled over us as she pondered this. I dropped her wrists and took a step back to keep from doing something stupid. I didn’t tell her that all I wanted to do at that moment was take her in my arms and kiss her until she was all I could taste on my tongue. I wanted to take her clothes off and feel her skin’s softness under my fingers. I wanted to run my hands through her hair and kiss her neck. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to hold her and never let go.
“You’re a good man,” Paisley said finally. “Loyal. More men should be like you.”
“I’m not,” I said, and it was the blunt fucking truth. “The way I feel about you is not good, Paisley. It’s not loyal. Not for you, not for me, and not for Julia, and probably not for Jeremy.”
Lighting flashed in Paisley’s eyes at mentioning his name, but she blinked it away as quickly as possible and focused on me.
“Then what do we do?” she asked. I could tell she didn’t want to hear the answer, but there was no way around it, no matter how much I hated it.
