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I don’t want her to think I’m kissing her to get my rocks off.
Can I explain it to her in just one kiss? That my feelings encompass all of her?
I want her beyond the physical. I want her every way a person can have someone.
I want her every way Mason had her.
I rip my mouth from hers and try to catch my breath.
What the fuck was that? Why the hell is Mason coming into this?Now? After all the work I’ve done to get over the wholehimaspect of Laney and me being together.
Laney falls back onto her bottom and covers her mouth with both hands. “I’m so sorry!”
“No, don’t–” Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ve ruined everything.
Launching to her feet, Laney crosses the room about as far from me as she can be. “That was so inappropriate, that was so–”
“Laney, it’s okay.” More than okay. So perfect in every way. “Please, come back, let me–”
“I don’t know what came over me.” She rubs a hand over her mouth. Like she’s trying to wipe me away. “You just–I just–”
I don’t know what to say. Don’t know if there’s anything for metosay. Other than I don’t regret it.
Before I can say anything else, she excuses herself from the room with a string of apologies, her veil of blonde hair hiding her deep crimson face.
“Laney…” But my voice is barely audible.
I lean my head back in the chair and slam my hands down on the arms. “Fuck.”
I can’t get up and go after her. Not until the numbness goes away.
I’m not sure if that’s what she wants anyway.
I’m stuck here in this chair. Having known the deliciousness of her lips. Broken coffee pot in the kitchen.
I fucked it all up.
12
LANEY
I’m a fucking idiot.And I’ve felt like a fucking idiot for the past twenty-four hours. A walking, breathing idiot who kissed Nate Lyons out of the blue.
Well, nottotallyout of the blue.
He did say he wanted to be “good” for me. Which I thought meant…romantically good. Like the way a man wants to be his best for a woman he cares about.
However, maybe he just meant he was going to stop bristling against me every time I ask him to do something for his legs.
Regardless, I read the moment completely wrong. Because though he kissed me back, he pulled away. Like he was in pain. His usual easy expression crackling. He looked almost disgusted.
I’ve barely been able to look at him. Even during our PT sessions, I try to keep it as professional as possible. I’ve avoided him with a long trip to the grocery store and a long reading session on the deck. I’ve called everyone I can call to keep me occupied with other conversations, and I went to bed at eight last night.
All to avoid having to look at him.
It’s not only the embarrassment. It’s the want that still lives in me that makes it so difficult.
I look at Nate for a passing second, whenever I know he’s not looking my way, and my body ignites. Why can’t my heart just listen to my head for once? Realize that it’s not good for me to want him? Even a rejection can’t turn off the pitter patter in my chest at his easy smile, tousle of his blond locks, long, hard body.
