Then she whispers, “Jaxon… we can’t keep doing this.”
“We haven’t even started,” I say.
Her lips press together. “You are not making this easy.”
“I’m not trying to make it easy,” I admit. “Just real.”
She looks down at the table, her hair falling forward. When she speaks again, her voice is softer.
“This is a problem.”
“Not for me.”
“Well, it is for me.”
I nod once. “Then we’ll solve it.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple,” I say. “You just don’t trust the outcome yet.”
She finally meets my eyes again.
And even though she doesn’t say it, even though she’s fighting it, I see it.
The want. The curiosity. The attraction she’s trying so hard to bury.
I see the choice forming in her expression.
Not yes.
Not yet.
But the beginning of yes.
She exhales slowly. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s fine,” I tell her. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Her eyes widen a little.
“And what is it exactly that you’re doing?”
I lean back, calm, steady, certain.
“I’m pursuing you.”
She freezes.
I watch her heartbeat pick up in her throat.
She whispers, “You shouldn’t.”
“Maybe not,” I say. “But I am.”
And then… she blushes.
Just slightly.