“Right, right.” She waves her hand, as if fanning herself. “Continue. Shirtless hockey player, you pulled him closer—”
“And then we made out. In the training room. And it was...” I trail off, searching for words that don’t exist.
“Good?”
“The best kiss of my life.” I take another gulp of wine. “And I’ve been kissed before. A lot. But this was... he kissed me like he’d been thinking about it for weeks. Like I was something he wanted to take his time with.”
Winnie fans herself again. “Okay, I need details. Tongue? Hands? Where were his hands?”
“My hip. The back of my neck.” I can still feel the ghost of his fingers threading through my hair. “Affirmative on the tongue. And then my phone buzzed, and we broke apart, and I panicked and ran away.”
“You ran away.”
“I literally grabbed my bag and left. Didn’t even say goodbye properly.”
Winnie stares at me. “Tori.”
“I know.”
“That poor man.”
“I know.”
She refills my glass even though it’s not empty. “Okay. So what happened after? Today?”
“I told him it was a mistake. That it won’t happen again.” The words taste bitter even now. “He just... accepted it. Didn’t argue, didn’t push back. And now he’s being perfectly professional and polite, and I hate it.”
“You hate that he’s respecting your boundaries?” Her eyes widen.
“I hate that I set boundaries I don’t actually want.” I lean my head back against the couch cushions. “What is wrong with me?”
Winnie is quiet for a moment, tucking her legs underneath her. “Can I say something? And you promise not to bite my head off?”
“No promises.”
“Fair.” She takes a breath. “Last week, I warned you about him. His reputation, the tabloid stuff, all of it. And I stand by that—you should be careful.”
“But?”
“But.” She swirls her wine. “The way you’re talking about this kiss? That’s not how you talk about a mistake. That’s how you talk about something that matters.”
My chest tightens. “It can’t matter. I won’t let it.”
She sets down her glass and turns to face me fully. “Look, I’m not saying to throw caution to the wind and ride off into the sunset with him. I’m just saying maybe don’t slam the door completely shut just because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
She simply looks at me.
“Okay, fine. I’m terrified.” I take another gulp of wine and stare at the ceiling. “I re-read the employee handbook today, like a crazy person. And it was pretty dang clear.”
“Okay, but—”
“And he’s got a kid.” The words tumble out before she can finish. “A six-year-old who’s already been abandoned by her mom. If I start something with him and it falls apart, it’s not just me who gets hurt.”
“That’s actually a really good point.”
“I know. That’s why I’m freaking out.”
