“If you need to go, I can wrap you up some leftovers.”
The record ended ages ago, and the only sound is the wind whistling through the trees.
“I’m pretty tired. Once I get these dishes done, I’ll probably go to bed.” I’m rambling to fill the silence.
Thump. Thump.
Two steps closer. “Did I say something to upset you?”
I clamp my eyes shut. “No. You actually said a lot of lovely things tonight.”
Thump. Thump.
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
“Because as lovely as it was, it’s also confusing.” There, I said it. “And I’m scared I’ve gone and screwed this whole thing up by asking you to…you know, and it’s obvious I’ve made you uncomfortable, and—and…”
Thump. Thump.
I stop breathing when the warmth of his front meets my back. “And what?”
“And I can’t stop thinking about it.” My eyes flutter open to find his hands bracketing either side of my hips. I’m caged in, yet there’s nothing keeping my next words captive. “I’m struggling to be your friend, Warren, which is unfair of me to say, considering I’m the one who forced you into this position.”
A deep hum rises from his throat, vibrating down every vertebra in my spine. “You think I’d do anything I didn’t want to do?”
His hands flex against the wooden worktop.
“You think it’s not tearing me up inside pretending to be your friend when all I want is to ruin our friendship? Over and over”—his breath flutters through my hair—“and over again.”
My legs threaten to buckle.
“Warren.” My voice comes out in a whimper.
“The way you say my name drive me wild.” His forehead rests against my crown, and I shiver as he inhales deeply. “You’ve got me all messed up, sweetheart. As if I’m not already too fucked in the head to truly give you what you deserve. I’d give anything to be that man. All I want is what’s best for you, to honor your wishes, but every time we’re together, you chip away at my restraint.”
I fall into him, and he catches me. Strong arms cradle me to his chest, solid if not for the thundering beat of his heart. I look down and pause. This is the first time Warren has ever touched my baby bump. He’s never asked, but as he holdsme and our baby as if we’re the most treasured items on Earth, I question how I ever thought we could just be friends.
“The last thing I want is to make anything difficult for you,” I mumble while gliding my fingertips over his forearms, reveling in the way the muscles flex under my touch.
He huffs against my skin. “The torture is self-inflicted, Harriet.”
Feeling brave, I slowly twist to face him. The force of his gaze melts me to the bones. We’ve found ourselves in unchartered territory. Our confessions pollute the once-clear air.
“I don’t want to torture you.”
My breathing falters when he cups my cheek, drawing me closer until his lips dance across my hairline. “It’s inevitable. I’m just not sure what’s worse: remaining as we are or taking what I want.”
The latter. Take the latter. Takeme.
I don’t plead with him. There’s too much torment scrawled across his face as he fights with the right thing to do.
When he moves to pull away, I grip his wrist.
“Don’t go. Stay. I’m not asking anything of you. I’m the one who asked for us to be friends, but…”
Warren doesn’t let my gaze travel far when I look away. He hooks a finger under my chin and raises it. “But what?” He’s so close. Smoke and raw need pour from him before coiling around me.
“But maybe I want to ruin the friendship too.”
