“Let me look.”
Danika twists so that she can sit on the bed.
Kim drops to her knees and looks at Danika’s shin. There’s a scrape and a trickle of blood where the frame caught her. “You’ll have a bruise in the morning. Let me get something to clean the blood.”
She goes to the bathroom and returns with an antiseptic wipe. Danika hasn’t moved. Kim crouches and wipes away the blood, now just a slow ooze. “Do you want a plaster?”
Danika nods. “You don’t want blood on the sheets.”
Kim’s plasters have Barbie on them. She sticks one on Danika’s leg, careful not to let her fingers linger on skin.
“Thanks,” Danika says.
Kim rises, then sits next to Danika on the bed. Up close, the heat from her body is a warm comfort, and the ceiling fan stirs the air enough that Danika’s hair drifts around her cheeks.
Danika brushes it away with an impatient gesture. She turns to face Kim, and their knees touch. Danika places her hand on Kim’s leg, just above the knee. “Thank you for a great evening. Adult company, adult things. I really enjoyed it.”
“Me too,” Kim says.
Danika is staring at her with wide eyes, a tiny crease on her forehead. What is she thinking? Probably wondering how soon she can get horizontal and sleep, hoping the bed is comfortable.
She leans in, intending to brush her lips over Danika’s cheek. A gesture she does so often with most of her friends.
As she does, Danika also tilts toward her—probably intending to do the same. Kim’s lips collide with the side of Danika’s nose.
Danika jerks in surprise, and the movement makes her rise.
Kim’s lips slide from Danika’s nose to the side of her lips, and she freezes. What was an awkward movement is now something more. Something different. Her lips press lightly on the sideof Danika’s. There’s a tiny “Oh” and Danika parts her lips, in surprise most likely, in a shuddery puff of breath.
Kim’s heart slams against her ribs, and a trickle of heat wends its way down her spine. She wants to make this an actual kiss, lips moving softly together, but that would be taking advantage.
She’s waited too long. Danika draws back, and there’s a question in her eyes, and a hesitation that makes Kim glad she didn’t give in to the impulse to make it a proper kiss.
“Sorry.” She pushes her hair from her face. “I was aiming for your cheek.”
Danika huffs a laugh. “Me too. No worries.” Her eyes slide away from Kim, and she stares at her feet.
Kim shifts away so there’s space between their legs, then she stands. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m an early riser—I’ll be up and around by six, so don’t worry about making noise.”
Danika gives a swift glance up. “That’s great. Thank you.” She stands.
The conversation, and anything else, is obviously over.
Kim leaves the room, goes down the hall to the kitchen.Shit, shit, shit.What started as a friendly gesture has made Danika uneasy. She didn’t intend the almost-kiss, but it happened anyway. And oh, how she’d wanted to make it real.
But that would have been so wrong, when Danika had obviously not wanted it.
Kim eyes the bottle of Cointreau above the microwave. She seldom touches it, much as she loves it, but now, feeling guilty that she made Danika uneasy, she wants one.
But it’s more than guilt for an honest mistake.
It’s guilt that she wanted to kiss Danika.
Her partner’s wife.
Chapter Nineteen
Danika
