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"It wasn't just that," he said. "We wanted you to make choices based on what you want, not what's safe. We're safe. You haven't had a date in a while."
After that demanding, brain-scrambling kiss, safe wasn't the word she'd use to describe Geoff. Maybe that explained why she didn't think before she spoke. "I have a date."
"Excuse me?"
In a blink, Geoff switched from reasonable lawyer to a hostile-looking male with testosterone loaded and ready to fire. A bull about to charge a china shop might have the same expression. While it thrilled her a little too much to see that reaction, she hastened to correct the assumption.
"I was thinking about that very issue this week, so I thought I should test it, you know, while you and Chris were still stalling on the whole thing. But I was wrong. This tells me I don't need to do that. I'll cancel it."
"No." Geoff folded her robe over her again and tied the sash, though she caught her breath as he cinched it more forcefully than perhaps he'd intended. Holding the ends in tight fists, his knuckles pressed against her abdomen, he stared down at her, a million indecipherable thoughts flickering over his features. But before she could react or reach for him, he stepped back from her. "You're right. You should give it a chance. Since Anthony, you've stayed pretty close to us, and that hasn't been fair."
She blinked in confusion, but irritation replaced it pretty fast. "You act like I just handed you an escape clause. Something to keep you from having to face any of this."
"No," he said. "It's not that." But his body language was stiff, his expression now wooden. "I'm just trying to be fair to you. Go on the date. Who's the guy?"
"Mark in the Records department. It's just drinks at a bar, a group thing. Not really a date." Sort of. "This is crazy. I'm going to call it off." After that kiss, she was sure she knew her mind on it, but Geoff was suddenly as far away as the moon.
"No. Don't. Go on the damn date." He pivoted and moved toward the door.
"Geoff, what the hell . . ." She heard a hint of desperation in her tone, which kind of disgusted her with herself. Her gut was roiling with confusion, hurt and anger.
"It's all right, Sam." He turned at the doorway, met her gaze. "I'm not saying any of what just happened was a mistake. You were beautiful. Perfect."
If he'd sounded patronizing, she would have hit him with a blunt object, but he didn't. He sounded conflicted. But she wasn't in the mood to be kind.
"It's not me, it's you?" she said frostily.
His expression cooled. "I need to think about this, just like I said. And so do you."
She wanted to tell him he couldn't tell her what to do, but that would sound a little fucked up, wouldn't it? Given that she was pushing him to take charge of her. She literally didn't know what to say, but he took care of that.
He cleared his throat. "I'm going to reread those three files and then head to bed. Good night."
He closed her door behind him, an external manifestation of the internal doors he'd just closed against her. She didn't know whether to spit, hiss or cry. She wondered what he'd do if she whipped out her vibrator and turned it up on maximum setting so it would vibrate through the walls like a jackhammer. She'd scream out her climax like a banshee. Let him deal with that.
The anger wasn't enough to keep the other, deeper emotions at bay. Sinking down on the bed, she played with the ends of the robe's sash and wiped impatiently at frustrated tears. Damn it, damn it, damn it. That set look on his face said the round was over for tonight. She wouldn't whip out her vibrator. She'd get a glass of wine, settle in here with a book and ignore him the rest of the night. Or relive every single moment of the past couple of hours, when she'd gotten so very close to the place she wanted to go with him.
Goddamn stubborn men.
***
Geoff paused in front of the Naughty Bits erotica store. Most days, he ate lunch at his desk, unless he had to meet a client or have a powwow with coworkers, but today the problem he faced took priority over his work schedule. He'd told Sarah he should be back in ninety minutes. If she could take a whole afternoon for her kid's award ceremony, he could take ninety minutes to resolve a sexual dilemma about his roommate.
Despite all the arousing things about that scene in the kitchen with Sam, what he kept remembering was how she'd looked when she teased him about Mr. Cade. With her gray eyes dancing, she'd put her hand up to her mouth to hide her smile. Her hair was baby soft, so straight and silky. The strands sometimes caught in the corner of her mouth or on her eyelashes.
It made him think of the night she'd drunk too much at a New Year's Eve party. She wasn't a drinker, but in the spirit of the holiday, she'd unwisely downed three tall, fruity drinks with tinsel sparkler garnishes. When he'd heard her throwing up in the bathroom early that next morning, he'd slid out of bed fast, but Chris had beat him there, of course. He was kneeling behind her, holding back her hair as she hunched over the toilet.
"Oh God," she'd said weakly when she saw him there. "Now my humiliation is complete. Both of you get to see me vomit."
Chris rubbed her back as another convulsion took her. Geoff estimated about a third of the alcohol, plus the pizza and snacks she'd had at the party, evacuated. "I'm never drinking again," she moaned. "Or eating."
He ran a washcloth under the sink faucet, dropped to one knee and wiped her mouth, then a trembling hand that had gotten in the path of the rapid expulsion. Despite her misery, it was clear she was embarrassed. She was a private girl when it came to anything that happened in a bathroom, but neither he nor Chris gave that a second thought. Caring for her was as automatic as breathing to them.
In the small space, he was pressed hip to thigh with the other man, but casual contact between them wasn't something they thought about, either. Well, Geoff did, a lot more lately, but it wasn't from a desire to avoid it.
He watched Chris tease her gently as he held back her hair with one hand, stroking it lightly with the other. Geoff expected Chris didn't mind having an excuse to enjoy those strands of silk threading through his fingers.
She'd worn jersey
