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When we reach the house, Aiden follows me to the door. I stop him before we go inside.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t say good morning to my own sister?” But the gleeful glint in his eyes says he’s planning more than that.
I block him again, hating that I even have to. It’s starting to occur to me how monumentally I’ve fucked up, as I stand between him and the door.
“Look. I don’t know how she’ll feel about me telling you this, so let’s keep it between us for now. Until I can talk to her.”
Aiden’s smile falters. “I wish she would talk to me.”
“I know.”
The house is quiet. There’s a 70 percent chance I won’t see Bee before I leave for work, but I’m not sure I can survive seven hours of answering irate questions from senior citizens while everything is up in the air.
I’m about to knock on her door when she rounds the corner into the hall. There’s a beat where we’re staring at each other in silence before Bee steps back, looking like she’s about to flee.
And that kicks my ass into gear.
“If you’re having regrets, I’d like to know. I’ve been trying to find a way to say this without influencing you, but it’s early, and the way you look right now is making it difficult to think, so I’m just going to say this.”
She’s still not looking at me, but it’s a little easier that way, so I close the gap and reach out for her hand.
“I don’t regret it, and I want to do it again. As many times as possible, if I’m honest. But if you don’t feel the same, if you want to only be friends and move past last night, then I will. But I can’t guess how you feel. I want you to talk to me. I promise I can handle it either way.”
She curls her fingers in mine, and I swallow, holding back the levy of hope that’s building. Aiden told me to be careful, but it’s damn hard to do so with her sleep rumpled and shy in front of me.
“I don’t regret it or think it was a mistake, but…”
My heart kicks like an angry horse.
“I can’t make any promises about where this is going either. I like you, a lot—have for a while, actually—and last night…” She darts a look up at me before skittering away again. “Was incredible. I definitely want to do it again, if you want.”
“Oh, I want.”
She ducks to hide her smile, but I want to see it, so I gently coax her chin up with my other hand. My thumb skims her lower lip, stealing the breath from us both.
“Now, about Aiden?—”
Bee steps back, pulling her hand out of mine. “I don’t want him to know.”
Well, fuck. I should have seen that coming, honestly.
“I don’t like lying to him, Bee. That’s not who I am.”
“I know. But we don’t know whatthiseven is yet, and I wouldn’t want to tell him if we end sooner rather than later.”
“Is that why you don’t want to tell him?”
There are few things we’ve disagreed on since we moved in together—a small miracle, I’m aware—but this is the one I have a real issue with. I hate lying as much as I hate hiding, but I’m also cautious of pushing Bee. We’ve talked a lot about how hard it is for her to be vulnerable, but I’m currently the middleman here, and it’s not fun.
But there is something nagging at me, something I should—but can’t—leave alone. “Because you think we have a shelf life?”
“I don’t know.”
What am I supposed to do with that?
“We can’t predict the future,” she adds.
