“What?”
His eyes don’t quite meet mine now. They’re fixed somewhere just over my shoulder.
“I meant what I said,” he continues, voice calm again. Too calm. “If I kiss you right now, I won’t want to stop.”
A strange knot tightens in my chest.
“So don’t stop,” I say, trying to sound braver than I feel.
I honestly don’t know if I’m ready for this. I think I am, but it’s been…a while. I can admit to myself that I’m nervous if not a bit scared, but it’s Shepherd. He’s been nothing but kind to me and I trust him.
His gaze finally meets mine again and that makes it worse because the want is still there. It’s just restrained now.
“That’s exactly the problem.” His words are gentle. Careful. Like he’s explaining something to someone fragile and I hate that feeling.
“I thought you said everything was on my terms,” I say.
He nods slowly, a pained look on his face. “It is.”
“Then why are you backing away like I’m going to break?”
“I’m not backing away from you, Sutton.” He runs a hand through his damp hair, frustration flickering across his face. “I’m just…trying to respect you.”
The bathroom suddenly feels smaller, hotter, and a hell of a lot more confusing.
“I’m not asking for respect right now,” I say quietly.
Disrespect me all you want.
I just want you to touch me.
His expression softens in a way that somehow hurts even more.
“I know.” Another beat of silence stretches between us and then he steps toward the door. “But you deserve it regardless and I didn’t ask you to move in here so I could put the moves on you. I’m not that guy,” he says. “I’ll be in the house if you need anything. Anything at all.”
The distance between us feels enormous now. He pauses at the doorway and for a second it looks like he might say something else, but he doesn’t. He merely glances back one more time, the tiniest smile across his lips, and then he walks out.
The door closes behind him and I’m still standing here in the steam, staring at the empty doorway, my pulse racing like I just ran a mile. A minute ago, I was certain he was about to kiss me. A minute ago, I was picturing the two of us in this shower together soaking up the warm water while he held me.
I don’t know what just happened.
I look down at the oversized shirt hanging off my shoulders and my stomach twists.
Did I push too far?
Did I misread everything?
Am I not…not good enough?
Because a second ago the way he was looking at me felt like fire. But the way he walked away…that felt an awful lot like someone putting distance between us.
Like someone who doesn’t really want me for…me.
And suddenly the bathroom feels a lot colder than it did five minutes ago.
“He just walked away?” Mari’s voice rises in disbelief as she sets down her coffee mug with more force than necessary. “After all that?”
I’m slumped in the chair across from her behind the counter at Funky Junk, still feeling the sting of this morning’s rejection. After my shower—which was perfectly hot, damn it—I texted Mari and told her I was stopping by before my afternoon shift.
