After eating her out by the pool, he’d come upstairs and written even more pages. He blamed it on the frustration of not having the guts to go ahead and fuck her like he wanted. But then he remembered he’d also written after their chat in his office, when she brought him the sandwich. Truth was, his unblocking had something to do with Alyssa.
He didn’t need it to be the truth. But it was.
Having her around re-energized him in a way he’d been able to put on words on paper at least.
He picked up a stress ball and squeezed it. Maybe it was her energy, her youth, her carefree way to go about life. Something about her had lifted the dark cloud over his writer’s block and inundated it with bright light.
He also wanted to fuck her. Badly.
But he couldn’t. Having sex with her would add more layers to this already catastrophic situation. He’d enjoyed giving her pleasure, because he made it about her, and in a selfish way, that eased some of his guilt from being intimate with his daughter’s best friend. That rationalization he could take to the bank.
If he had sex with her, he’d be a dirty old man. A pervert. He’d be taking advantage of her, and worse—he’d be his first. When she got older, she’d never forgive him for being the more adult person out of the two, and crossing that line.
So as long as she understood…
He went down the stairs, and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. She’d gone over to the Smiths to meet with the plumber, and he’d offered to talk to the plumber and help out. He hated to sound sexist, but maybe he could help and make sure the plumber didn’t take advantage of her because she was a young woman with probable no experience with pipes and stuff. That strange protective sentiment assailed him again, like he wanted to keep her away from any harm.
She’d assured Knox that she would text when the plumber arrived. But she’d left forty minutes ago and no text yet.
Mr. Fluffers snored, sleeping on his leather couch like it’d belonged to him his whole life.
The kitchen chimed, and she returned, walking up to him wearing some sort of workout clothes. Tight top and shorts, all pink. A sheen of sweat slicked the area between her breasts, glistening her bronze skin. Desire stirred inside him, but he willed it away.
“I thought you’d text me,” he said. Did the plumber see her like this too? Any man who saw her so scantily clad would experience the beginning stages of a heart attack. Unless… there was no plumber and the whole story had been a lie. He clucked his tongue. Would she really go to that length to spend time with him?
“I would have, if he’d showed up,” she said, shrugging. “He texted me about five minutes ago, saying he had a little emergency with his kid and got held up. He’ll let me know when he can come again.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, unsure if he should believe her or not. Also unsure why that possibility did a deep massage to his ego.
“Yes. I mean, I’ll email Mrs. Smith. If she wants me to find someone else I will, but in the summer and out of the blue it may be difficult to have an available plumber at your beck and call.”
“I can imagine,” he said. To her credit, he’d been through his share of unreliable contractors. “Well, you and Fluffers can stay here as long as you need,” he said, the words poured out of him before he thought them over. Why would he be so generous? What if it took her a couple of weeks to find someone to fix the problem? “I mean, I’m sure it’ll get fixed soon. A few more days tops,” he added.
She took a deep breath, which only raised her tits and consequently, his blood pressure. “Are you tired of me already?”
“No,” he said, far too quickly.
Quite the opposite. “Good. Because I was wondering if you wanted to go roller skating with me later.”
Roller skating? He didn’t even own roller skates… and couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it. “I can’t.”
She brought her hands together, fingers fidgety. “How about tomorrow?”
“I can’t go roller skating with you, Alyssa. I can’t take you on a date.”
A twinge of disappointment crossed her face, and she dropped her arms to her sides. “Oh. But last night—”
“Last night I wanted you, and trust me, I still do. But I didn’t go further because my stance on going all the way with you has not changed,” he said, his voice firm. Her invitation to go roller skating with him only cemented his fear—she’d think they were more than what they were. He had to set her straight. Hurting her was not an option.
“Oh. Of course,” she said. “I just thought we could have fun. Without strings attached.”
“That’s the thing… it’s hard to get those strings from entangling.”
She frowned, stepping forward. “For you or for me?”
“For both of us,” he said honestly. He usually did a great job compartmentalizing emotions, but this time a nagging feeling in his gut told him it’d be way more difficult. She was already too inserted in his world too quickly. What kind of damage would a romantic relationship with her cause? He wouldn’t, couldn’t find out.
Alyssa slipped on her tennis skort. She’d never known that the clothes she bought on sale at an outlet shop would help her landing a man like Knox. Granted, that didn’t happen, yet, but she was either an ignorant fool or an overconfident fool. Maybe both!
