She shrugs, avoiding eye contact.
I grind my teeth in an effort to not make a dig at this man. Maybe I wasn’t a great boyfriend, but this loser was out here keeping her from the things she loved the most.
“And since I’ve been single,” she continues, “I’ve just been surviving. I’m too tired for hobbies.”
Before I can think too hard about it, I rest my hand on her leg, just above her knee, as a gesture of comfort.
She gives me a tight-lipped smile and a half-shrug. “Please don’t look at me like I’m pathetic,” she says.
“I’m not, I swear.”
I’m trying not to wear every single emotion on my face, trying to hide that the only thing I can think about is how I’d make damn sure she always had time for her hobbies if she were with me.
Maybe it’s better that she read pity rather than outright desire.
Speaking of which…
“Hey, so…I was hoping we could talk about last night.”
“Yes, definitely,” she says, adjusting in the chair to sit up more and draw her legs toward her in a criss-cross position.
I place my hand at the edge of the chair so I have something to grip. My stomach can’t decide if her reaction is bad or good and flips end over end, making me feel a little nauseated.
“It was hot,” I say. Venturing a glance at her.
She’s twisting her lips to the side, again fighting a smile. “It was, but we can’t do that again.”
Shit.
This is what I was afraid of. We did too much too fast and now I’ve scared her off. I disagree with her about whether we should indulge in those activities again, but I’m not going to push or argue with her. Because my priority isn’t having physical access to Abby; it’s having access at all.
The last thing I want is for her to close the door and tell me that she wants me to spend the next five days avoiding her. If she never speaks to me again after she leaves the resort, and I fully expect that she won’t, I want these last few days. And I am not above begging.
“Do you…not want to see me at all?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t say that. We can see each other. We’re seeing each other right now.”
She’s smiling. She seems relaxed, and that relaxes me. She’s not closing the door on me, and while I’d like to know why she doesn’t think we can repeat last night, I’m not going to push her now. And given how she’s scanned my body a few times since I approached, I’m not convinced avoiding me is what she actually wants.
“Oh, she’s got jokes.”
“I’ve always been the funny one in this dynamic,” she says, trying to play it serious, but a ghost of a smile betrays her.
“Have dinner with me,” I say. And if she’s surprised at my request, she doesn’t show it. In fact, she seems pleased.
“Okay,” she says, letting herself smile this time, and it takes all my self-control not to lean in and kiss her. “I still haven’t had Mexican food because you ran me off from the restaurant the other night.”
“Please. You ran of your own free will.”
“Well, don’t scare me away tonight.”
I’d rather stab a fork into my hand than scare her off again. “I’ll do my best, but so far this week, my track record isn’t so good.”
“We won’t count the first day. I felt like I’d seen a ghost when I saw you,” she says.
“Same, but like a really hot ghost.”
“Oh, you think I’m hot?” She shimmies her shoulders a little at me, an exaggerated tease.
