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His arm moved from my shoulder to allow his hand to start sliding comfortingly up and down my spine. Well, it was meant to be comfortingly, but for me, it was really just erotically.
Because I needed more logs on that fire.
"I know I'm not supposed to ask," he said, voice oddly deeper than it usually was. "But are you gonna forgive me?"
I felt my lips curl up slightly at that. "I'm thinking about it," I offered with a warm, swelling feeling in my chest.
"Yeah? Maybe want to think about it some more over a cup of coffee? Or you got a hot date to get to?" he asked, tone teasing, but I oddly felt myself stiffening both inside and out.
Because, maybe, just maybe, a part of me had still been thinking we'd be picking up where we left off. That maybe we were on the way to being more than friends. That the apology and donation were part of some big, grand, romantic gesture.
Like in my books.
But life, I kept finding out over and over and over again, was nothing like my books.
When was I going to just accept that and move on?
Apparently, not tonight.
And better sense was telling me that I had to get a rein on things - namely, my emotions - before they got out of hand again.
No more crushes on guys who wanted to be just friends.
"Can I raincheck on the coffee?" I asked, untangling from him even though every inch of me felt like it was reaching out for him.
I was proud of how strong my voice sounded.
It seemed that Cyrus was taken aback at the turn-down, his brows moving together, his shoulders stiffening. "Raincheck? Since when do you ever raincheck coffee? Especially after having to deal with Barb all day?"
He had come to know me too well. Which wasn't making this whole lying to him thing any easier.
"It's just that I, ah, I promised my aunt to help her with her resumé."
There.
It wasn't even a lie.
I totally did promise my aunt to help her with her resumé.
That weekend.
At Sunday dinner.
But he didn't need to know that.
There was no point in him knowing the truth, that I was going home to mentally beat myself up until I was too mentally and emotionally drained to stay awake one more minute.
"Bad timing, huh?" he asked, tone a bit guarded. "Alright, well, how about ice cream tomorrow afternoon?" he offered, knowing I was working the night shift the next day.
I knew there was no way to put it off again without him getting suspicious since he knew me well enough to know that I wasn't someone who kept a full social calendar.
"Yeah, that should work. Three?" I suggested, knowing I had to be at work by four-thirty, so it wouldn't leave time for me to get too wrapped up in Cy, as I was sure was bound to happen again if we spent too much time together.
Again, his brows lowered, but he nodded. "Alright. That works. I'll see you tomorrow then."
They were parting words, but he wasn't moving away.
"Um, are you..."
"Going to wait to make sure that piece of shit of yours turns over before I leave?" he asked, giving me a smile, but it didn't seem to meet his eyes. "I sure as fuck am."
"Oh, erm, okay. Yeah, see you later," I told him, offering him a wave. A wave. When he was like three feet in front of me. Would my awkwardness never cease?
That question was answered with a resounding no a second later when I unlocked my door, slid in, then promptly got my darn hair stuck in the door as I closed it.
Cheeks heating, I reopened the door slightly, hoping he didn't see what actually happened, that maybe it just didn't close properly the first time.
I turned over the car which, blissfully, didn't fight me for a change, then buckled up, offered him a small smile, and drove off.
I made it home on pure autopilot, not seeming to take in any of the sights, the roads, heck, even the traffic lights, until I was pulling into my spot, realizing I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't even remembered to turn on my headlights.
Good going, Reese, I chided as I grabbed my keys and bag, then climbed out of the car.
I was slinging my purse over my shoulder when a voice interrupted me.
"Did I just see you in the library parking lot with a man's arms around you?" Kenzi asked, stepping out of the shadow cast by one of the trees flanking the path toward the front door. "A Henchmen's hands all over you?"
Oh, boy.
This was not good.
Suddenly, I wished I had taken Cyrus up on the offer for coffee. Even if it did mean falling just a little bit more in love with him.
