He gives me one of those hard, assessing looks of his. The kind I seem to get a lot of lately.
After a second, he swallows and nods. “It has to be perfect, or you have to be perfect?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just a presentation. For a job you’re amazing at. It’s not going to make or break your career.”
“It’s just a presentation to you. To me, it’s everything.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Everything? It’s everything to you?”
“What?” God, he sounds so hurt. I feel like I kicked a puppy.
“Jesus, Meg. We slept together last night. How is your presentation more important than that?”
And I can’t look at him anymore because it hurts too much. I can’t think about what he’s saying. I just ... I just can’t.
I push myself to my feet and head for my closet, snagging my shoes. I flee the bedroom, putting the shoes on as I walk down the stairs, nearly tripping as I do so. “I can’t have this conversation right now.”
He follows me out of the bedroom, grabbing his pants off the floor on his way. I can hear him putting them on as he walks down the stairs. “Then when? When can you have this conversation?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him, honestly.
Though I somehow can’t bring myself to look at him without feeling like a jerk and a coward.
When am I going to be ready to face what happened last night?
I slept with my best friend. I had sex with the one person who should have been off limits. The one person I don’t know how to live without. And now, I might have ruined everything.
I reach the main level of my condo. I make it halfway across the room toward the coffeemaker, before turning back around. I don’t have time for coffee. More to the point, I can’t stay here with Keegan while the coffee brews. I’ll make some at the office.
I head toward the stairs, but Keegan is in my way. He must have grabbed a shirt as well as pants, because he’s pulled it on. But he hasn’t bothered with the buttons yet and it’s hanging open over his bare chest. I’m trying so hard not to look at him, I nearly run smack into him.
“If you don’t know when you’ll be ready to have this conversation, you better figure it out. Because I’m ready now.” He reaches out towards me like he wants to grab me by the arms, but instead he takes a step back and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. “What is it you're so afraid of?”
“Seriously?” Okay. He wants to do this now? We’ll do it now. “I’m afraid sleeping together ruined everything. I’m afraid it changed things and we can’t ever go back. I’m terrified that a year from now, I’ll run into you somewhere, and I’ll be as desperate for your attention as Selah was last night. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Selah? I told you last night. You don’t have any reason to be jealous of Selah. She means nothing to me. We were just friends with an … agreement.”
“God, do you even hear yourself? You were just friends with her. Until you slept together.” He just blinks at me, clearly still not seeing it. “I’m not jealous of Selah. I’m afraid of being thenextSelah.”
“You are not ever going to be the next Selah. That’s not what’s happening here. You and I didn’t fuck one night because we were both bored and didn’t have anything better to do. And if that’s what you think happened here, then we really do have a problem.”
“Which is why I can’t talk about this right now. I need to—”
This time he does grab my arm. Not hard and not for long. Just until I cut myself off. “This isn’t just a fuck buddy situation. This is more than that.”
“Look, I know you think that. But your life is in transition right now. You’re thinking about stepping away from the bar to go work for your dad. It’s natural that you're clinging to our relationship because it’s familiar and comfortable.”
“That’s not what’s happening here. You’re a person, not an emotional support animal.”
“But—”
“I’m not confused. This doesn’t have anything to do with my selling the bar or going to work for my dad or anything like that. This is about you and me. I’m in love with you. I’vebeenin love with you.”
His words knock me back a step.
He’s inlovewith me?
