He smiled, gave me a little wave, and then drove off down the long drive back to the main road. I sighed once his truck disappeared and walked, heels in hand, over to the garage.
I reached into my clutch for the door opener, only torealize I’d left it upstairs in my apartment when I’d rushed down earlier. I sighed and reluctantly walked around to the front of the house, hoping the door might still be unlocked.
To my surprise and relief, it was. I slipped inside. The cabin was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of a few dim lamps in the living room.
I wasn’t expecting Jay to be awake at such a late hour, so I was surprised to find him sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, a small journal open on his lap. A warm blaze was eating away at a few oak logs, Luna curled into a tight little snowball beside the flame, and Jay was scribbling something across the page. It wasn’t until I set my heels on the wood floor and they made a soft clicking sound that he looked up.
“Hey,” he said quietly, setting the journal aside on the cushion next to him.
“Hi.”
“How was your date?” he asked casually, his expression unreadable.
I dropped my purse beside my heels and dragged a hand through my curls. “It was…fine.”
“Just fine?” One eyebrow ticked upward.
I tried to play it cool. I didn’t want him to see how frustrated I was, but it bubbled up without my consent. “It was more than fine,” I said with a sharp little laugh. “He was a perfect gentleman, actually.”
Jay pressed his lips together. “That’s good, right?”
“It should be,” I said, walking over to the living room. I began pacing the rug in front of the hearth, stepping carefully around Luna’s sleeping form. “In theory. If I were a sane person, I’d be thrilled.”
“And you’re not?”
“I got the ick,” I admitted.
“The ick,” Jay repeated, amusement entering his tone now.
“Yes. The ick,” I said, throwing my hands up. “From a nice, polite man who did absolutely nothing wrong.”
Jay lifted a hand to his mouth, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. “That sounds tragic.”
“Is it really that awful of me to want a little more passion?” I stopped abruptly and turned to face him.
“Passion?” he echoed, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yes, passion,” I said, the words tumbling out too fast to stop. “Is it too much to ask for a man to cup my face and kiss me like he means it? To kiss me in a way that leaves me a little breathless and wanting more?”
Jay stared at me, biting his lip to stifle another smile.
“Oh my gosh,” I groaned, suddenly mortified. I dropped onto the coffee table and covered my face. “Why am I telling you this? Please forget I said anything. I’m sorry. I just needed to vent.”
“Vent away,” Jay said mildly. “I’m not judging.”
I peeked at him through my fingers, and a long pause stretched between us.
“So,” he said at last, “you kissed him?”
My head dropped back into my hands with a groan. “Nope. Absolutely not. I should not be having this conversation with you.”
He chuckled, holding his hands up. “You brought it up.”
“You’re right,” I said, snapping my head up. “I did. And I definitely should not have.”
“What gave you the ick?” he asked. “Bad kisser?”
“No,” I admitted, narrowing my eyes. “The kiss was… fine.”
