She hesitates. I can see the internal debate playing out across her features. "I have a few minutes," she says finally. “Annie was still sleeping when I left, so I can get her order just before I go.”
The taste of victory is sweeter than any pastry in this place.
She orders a slice of the ham and spinach quiche and a cappuccino, and comes to sit down with me at my table. “This is delicious,” she says with a smile, closing her eyes with pleasure after the first bite. The sight sends a jolt down my spine; I want that same expression on her face because of my touch.
“I should bring Annie a slice of this,” she says with a laugh. “She’ll have a new pregnancy craving.” She pauses. “Sorry, I’m sure you’re not interested in all of that.”
"I don't mind." And I don't. I want to know everything. Every detail, every story, every piece of her life. "How long are you in Boston?"
"I'm actually leaving today. This evening. My flight is at nine." She wraps her hands around her cappuccino cup. "I was only here for a quick visit."
Her leaving feels like a ticking clock. My jaw tightens. "That's a shame," I say. "I was hoping to continue our conversation from yesterday. Over dinner, maybe.”
The air between us feels charged, that same electricity from before. That hunger pulses in me, that desperate need to possess, to own, to keep.
“You know what I do now, but you never told me about yourself.” She swerve the conversation away from her leaving—maybe, I hope, because she doesn’t want to turn down my offer of dinner just yet.
I shrug. “It’s all very boring. Business and financials. Imports/exports. You know—nothing as exciting or introspective as art.” It’s not a lie… it’s just not as legal as I’m making it sound.
Mara chuckles, taking another sip of her cappuccino. "Somehow I doubt anything about you is boring."
It sounds like a flirtation, and she seems to realize it the moment the words leave her mouth. A faint blush colors her cheeks. She looks down at her cup, suddenly fascinated by the coffee.
“You could find out. Over dinner?” I press a little harder, wanting her to accept. To move this forward enough to either cure my obsession or move me further down the path of claiming her. “Before your flight.”
"I..." She looks flustered now, uncertain. "I don't think that's a good idea."
I smile. "Why not?"
"Because I'm leaving. And I’m not someone who does long-distance. It’s just not something I’m interested in.”
I chuckle. “It’s just dinner,” I offer, and she flushes.
“I know. I didn’t mean to imply—” She sets her cup down, straightening. “I’m here to see my friend. I can’t spend my last evening out with a guy. And I still need to pack.” She's making excuses, but they're real enough, practical. I think I can see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes; she wishes she could bring herself to sayyes. "I'm sorry."
I should accept this gracefully. But I've already decided I'm not letting her go.
Mara takes the last sip of her cappuccino, and now I’m sure I see the regret on her face. “I should go,” she says finally. “Annie will be up soon, and I don’t want to waste time with her.
I nod as if I’m accepting all of this—the end of what could have been. "Of course."
We walk to the counter together as she puts in the order for Annie, and then stand as she waits. “You don’t have to wait with me,” she says, and I shrug.
“Maybe I’m just enjoying the last moments of this… connection.”
She glances up at me, not quite meeting my eyes, like someone trying not to look directly into the sun. “Is that what this was?”
“It certainly felt like it.”
I walk her to the door. The morning sun is bright, making her squint slightly. She turns to face me, and I realize this is a moment that I need to make count.
I take her hand. But instead of shaking it, I lift it to my lips.
I kiss her knuckles, letting my lips linger against her skin. I swear I can feel her pulse jump beneath my mouth.
Her breath catches, a small, quick intake of air. Her hand trembles slightly in mine.
I don't let go immediately. I hold her there, her hand at my lips, my eyes locked on hers. I let her feel the heat of my breath against her skin, see the slightest flicker of the hunger in my eyes.
