Panting, I break away from the kiss. It’s now or never.
“Maybe, after you finish up here, you want to go home with me?I live nearby; we could take this further?”
Given the heat between us, I don’t think the question surprises him. For a moment, I could swear that lust fills hiseyes and he starts to smile. Hope grows within me, but then, for reasons unknown, his entire demeanor suddenly changes. His expression turns cold, and he moves away from me. I miss his touch the moment I lose it.
“I can’t,” he says, shaking his head.
Myheart sinks at record speed. “You can’t?”
“Non. C’est . . . compliqué.”
“Why? What’s complicated? You seemed like you wanted to just seconds ago.”
“I can’t explain it.”
Despite my efforts to keep it neutral, frustration echoes in my voice. “Please try, Luc. Help me understand.”
“I...” He falls silent. “I have self-esteem issues. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
Self-esteem issues? What’s he talking about? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Every time I’m with him, he seems confident to the point of being cocky. From what I’ve seen, he’s never been afraid to be himself around me, never bothered to swallow any words. No, this is impossible to believe.
“You? Self-esteem issues? Luc, from the moment I met you, you’ve walked around here like you own the place. You’ve bossed me around like I was your employee—or less.”
And it was fucking hot, I think to myself.
He shakes his head. “This is different. I can’t sleep with you because...” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I have no idea what’s going on. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll absolutely listen to anyone telling me no, or when someone tells me to stop, but I don’t understand this at all. Just moments ago, he dragged me into this room, kissing me and grinding up against me like he was ready to do it right here, in the back of the shop after his shift. Where did I go wrong? Why does he suddenly no longer want me? And what self-esteem issues is hetalking about? “But Luc, I thought we were doing well. I thought you were comfortable around me, I—”
“I am.”
“Then why can’t you just tell me?”
“Because I’m afraid you’ll laugh.”
I can’t help but scoff. “If you think I’d ever laugh at you, Luc, I must have done a poor job of letting you get to know me.” Doubt crosses his face, so I decide to continue, stepping closer to him. “Do you really think I’d laugh at you?”
He raises his chin, his expression darkening. “It’s happened to me before. In the past.”
“But not by me.”
“No, not by you.”
“Then why don’t you try me? Or, if you feel like you can’t, how about I tell you something embarrassing about me first, and then you tell me?”
His eyes widen, telling me his interest is piqued. “Would you?”
“If you think that would help.”
“Yes. Please do.”
“Okay, let me think ... Oh, here’s something: I was a late bloomer. I didn’t have my first kiss until I was eighteen, and I didn’t sleep with anyone until I was twenty-two. How’s that?”
A strangled breath escapes him, and I can’t tell if it’s a good sign or not. But then he asks, “Were you in love with that person you slept with?”
“Yes, I was. I mean, it still ended pretty quickly, but yes, I was in love.”
“And you didn’t regret it?”
