“Not exactly. But I didn’t want to embarrass you more than I already had.” My voice cracks.
Then she shakes her head and steps forward. “Hold on. I want to see something. Just humor me for a second, okay?” She stands so close that our bodies are nearly touching, and I can’t help the way my breathing quickens. Her hands slide up my chest, and she curls her fingers into my shirt. And it all makes my heart beat so fast that I’d swear I was staring out the side of a plane and preparing to jump.
She waits for my consent, but I barely get an “Okay” out before her lips are on mine again. It only takes a second for all of my logic and reason evaporate. The only thing on my mind is the silky softness of her hair between my fingers, the heat from her body pressing into mine, and the chocolatey sweetness of her tongue in my mouth. A low moan escapes her throat, spurring me on. My mind wanders into dangerous territory, and I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if we were lying in bed together, her bare skin against mine, the things I could do to her and the sounds she would make.
It’s not just that, though. Kissing Daisy feels good in ways I’ve never experienced before. There’s also a different kind of warmth coursing through me. It’s a mix of comfort and relief washing over me, but stronger. It feels like she’s … consoling me.
But she breaks away and steps back, and that restlessness immediately returns. My chest heaves as I force myself to let go of her, and my head pounds from the leftover adrenaline. I growl and run my hands through my hair, already disgusted with my lack of self-control.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out.
When I glance up, she looks apologetic, and I realize she thinks I’m angry with her for kissing me. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m frustrated with myself, Daisy, not with you,” I choke out.
“Because you kissed me back, even though no one was around to see it?”
“Yes.” I breathe out a sigh. “Because now that I’ve given in to my impulses, I’m worried I won’t be able to get that version of myself under control again.”
“I thought we agreed to be honest, though. Now that we’ve acknowledged our,” she pauses and shrugs shyly, “physical chemistry, wouldn’t it make things more awkward if we tried to ignore it?”
I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the wildly inappropriate thoughts I had a minute ago. “You don’t understand. I can’t risk letting that guy out around you. In fact—shit. I promised Rowan I wouldn’t.”
Yes, that’s it. Think of everyone you’re letting down,I tell myself.
She frowns and crosses her arms again. “Let me guess—you’re going to say that was all a natural reaction to me forcing myself on you?”
“Of course. I mean, it makes perfect sense, right? I haven’t gotten much action in a while, and you’re still eager to gain experience. It stands to reason that we’d both enjoy the physical connection for what it is. It doesn’t have to signify anything.” Maybe if I’m convincing enough, I’ll believe it, too.
“Yeah. That tracks,” she mutters bitterly.
“We can work around this,” I continue, ignoring the pang of guilt in my chest. “We’ll just have to be more careful and cut out anything that could lead to it happening again.”
“So no more mistletoe.” Her voice is dry and sarcastic. Because I did that to her. I didn’t just break my promise to keep anything from happening between us; I made her bitter. I broke her spirit.
“Right,” I say, forcing a smile. Regardless of whether I can control my feelings after this, I can’t let her see what she does to me, or she won’t let me leave when the time comes. The only way to protect her is to remind her that I’m not what she needs.
She shrugs and looks away. “Yeah, well thanks for being my date tonight. I appreciate the effort you put into your performance.”
She’s pissed. Good.
I hate that I’m making her feel so bad. But I absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, set her straight.
“My pleasure, Blondie,” I mumble.
“And don’t worry, I won’t impose on you again.” She turns on her heels and stomps off to her bedroom, and I lean against the wall, letting my head fall back and heaving out a sigh. Because every cell in my body wants to go after her and make sure she knows that she’s my favorite imposition.
CHAPTER 33
daisy
“That’swhy Jeremy wasn’t at the Christmas party the other night,” Claire admits with a shrug.
“I’m sorry, Claire,” I tell my friend when she confesses that she and her husband are officially calling it quits. Then I reach out and pat her shoulder. “That stinks.”
She only gives herself a second of vulnerability before she hardens her expression again. “Yeah, well, people get divorced all the time, right?”
There’s a pang in my chest when she says it, because I’d all but forgotten that I’m about to become a member of that divorcées club, right alongside Claire.
“Yeah, it happens,” I reply with a shrug, trying to hide the emotion in my voice.
