My glasses smash into the bridge of my nose, and Avery leans back, carefully removing them before kissing each of my temples. She lays the glasses on the cushion beside us before peppering kisses along my jawline and back to my lips again. And then she’s letting up, my mouth chasing hers, not ready for it to be over. When my eyes open, she’s smiling down at me from her pedestal on my knees.
She sighs happily. “Ty, I?—”
My mouth finds hers again, silencing her, the desperation too much to bear. The last time I wanted something so badly was when I was waiting to hear word about being drafted into the NFL. I’ve never wanted a woman like this—never needed someone like this.
Avery makes me rethink every bad thing I’ve ever said about committed relationships. Because that’s what she makes me want to do.
Commit. I want to be the anchor she’s been missing. I want to be her home.
This kiss is shorter, but still as satisfying.
“What were you saying?” I smirk.
Her eyes flutter open. “I just.Wow.I didn’t know you. That you?—”
“Had a thing for you?”
“If that’s what you want to call it, then, yeah.” She adjusts in my lap but doesn’t climb off.
“Is that okay?”
She runs her hands over her hair, finally sliding into the seat beside me and handing me my glasses. “Yeah. I mean—I don’t know. Like, what’s next? Are we just roommates who make out now?”
She’s asked exactly the thing I’d been afraid of answering. Because it’s ridiculous. Roommates who make out? That’s not a real thing. Not a real label. Not the kind of label she deserves. Before I can open my mouth, she’s already talking more sense than my brain can currently compute.
“This can’t happen. You and I can’t happen.” She rakes a hand through her wild hair. Her eyes are pleading as they meet mine. “I already made one mistake tonight. I don’t need to add another. Ty, a relationship—or just associating—with you would be the end of the only dream I’ve ever had.”
“Are you talking about dance or plants?”
Her dark brows crinkle. “Dance. Obviously.”
To me, the obvious observation is that she’s passionate about botanicals, but she seems to think otherwise.
“Dance is the only thing I’ve ever been good at.Greatat.” Her face pinches as she collects her words. “After I dropped out of college, Mom decided that cheering for the Kings was the only way to showcase my talents, to makesomething of myself. And then, eventually, it evolved into this big, elusive dream.”
“So your mom decided your dream?” Now my brow furrows. “But you love plants, I thought?—”
“I love them both, but sometimes love isn’t enough to build a future on. Plants won’t open doors for me, but dancing for the Kings could. It’s hard to explain. But we’re not talking about that right now.”
“Right, we’re talking about us.”
“There is nous.” She falters, hands in hair, wheels turning somewhere in that pretty head. “Unless no one finds out…”
She mutters to herself, and for a brief moment, I question her sanity. My heart races at the thought. Could Avery and I keep this to ourselves? What happens under my roof isn’t anyone’s business. We live together; we could very easily do anything we want. “I mean, I’m always up for something temporary?—”
The words never quite settle, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. They’re selfish and sour, but they spew from my mouth like a last-ditch lifeline. Because I know Avery and I can’t be together. I know that she deserves more than what I’m capable of, but after a kiss like that I can’t let her go. Even if she’s only mine for a minute, it’s better than nothing. I’ve never felt such greed before.
My words break her trance, and she flips to face me, her eyes resolute. “Temporary, right. Because you don’t do long-term.”
I want to agree. I’ve already thought about how this exact situation might play out. In that fantasy, I’ve evenconsidered throwing everything I thought I knew about relationships aside and giving this whole thing a chance if she’ll have me. But that would be reckless, because regardless of how sweet Avery is, I’ve witnessed too many heartbreaks, experienced too many people leaving. And that’s why we’re friends. A friendship is less of an investment, and it’s better that way.
But looking at her now only makes me think of a few seconds ago, when her lips were on mine and…
“Ty?” She tilts her head. “You agree, don't you? That this was a mistake?”
Ouch.A mistake? Honestly, it hurts to hear her call it that. But what am I supposed to say?No, Avery. This is a great idea. Falling for a girl you invited into your home because she was sleeping in her car with a cat is totally normal. Safe. It’s a great idea. Abandoning all notions you’ve had about love for said cat lady is a great idea.
The thing is, it’s not. And she’s right. So I nod. “A mistake. Yeah.”
