And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.
I’ve spent my entire life with Jess. She was my first and only love. I’ve never been with anyone else, not to mention aman. There wasn’t room for it. I was happy with her.
But as uncomfortable as it is to admit, I’ve always found Will attractive. I wish I could say the other day was the first time my eyes ever lingered on him for a moment too long, but it wasn’t. I just chose not to see it until now.
I think I may be the worst person on earth.
I force myself to get up because lying there, thinking about everything wrong with my current situation, isn’t doing me anygood. So I go through the motions of the morning. Coffee. Dishes. Breakfast.
Don’t think about him. Don’t think about his lips.
Addie stumbles through the front door around eight, wearing her clothes from yesterday, so she must have spent the night at Emmett’s. She pours herself a cup of coffee, and I don’t comment on the faint smell of alcohol. My teenage daughter sneaking beer at her best friend’s house is the least of my worries. I trust him to take care of her.
Ollie comes down twenty minutes later and climbs into his chair, asks for waffles, and I make them because I’m damn lucky the kid didn’t see what happened last night.
Or didn’t know to care.
“Grandma’s picking you up at ten,” I tell them both, sliding the plate in front of Ollie.
“For the farmers market?” he asks, drowning the waffles and everything in the general area in syrup. “Is Uncle Will coming?”
I pause at the name, and it feels like an admission of guilt.
“Not today, bud,” I say, clearing my throat, busying myself tidying up the table.
Joyce picks the kids up at ten on the dot, Ollie running excitedly to greet his grandma while Addie trails behind, sunglasses perched on her head with a groan.
I’m grateful for the alone time after last night.
I need to think.
So I’m going to clean the house, for the first time in way too long, and while I clean, I’m going to come up with some sort of plan for how to handle seeing him again. What I’m going to say. What I’m going to do.
If I’m going to do anything.
I find the duster under the sink after noticing a thick layer of dust on the living room bookshelf. I start in there because it’sthe worst, working my way around the furniture while my mind drifts to what happened.
I kissed Will last night.
I’ve been wanting to for longer than I’ve been willing to admit, and last night, with adrenaline coursing through my veins and his breath on my face, I couldn’t hold back. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
I move to the dining room.
Now the complicated part.
I have to see him again. It isn’t avoidable. He’s working at the practice. He’s Frank and Joyce’s son. He’s the kids’ uncle. I’m supposed to behelpinghim. There’s no version of this where I can avoid him. So I have to figure out what I want. And where things stand between us.
Do I want to kiss him again?
Yes, my brain supplies without a second thought. And I’ve given up trying to argue with myself. I should probably be concerned about why I’m all of a sudden attracted to a man, but I’m not. I drag the duster along the china cabinet full of dishes we’ve never used, and I don’t care about my sexuality one bit.
All I know is I want him more than I’ve wanted anyone in a long time, and if that makes me bisexual or even gay, so be it. But does he want me?
He didn’t push me away last night. In the half a second before Ollie interrupted, he hadn’t moved. And when I pulled back, he was shocked. He didn’t yell at me or cuss me out or any of the other things that may have been a reasonable response to your brother-in-law kissing you.
He didn’t have much of a chance to react either way. I could have kissed anyone for that long, and they wouldn’t have had time to object.
I pause my dusting, more confused than ever.
