“I really,reallydon’t. I thrive in the summertime.”
She laughs again, a quiet, tired sound, before pressing the dishwasher button. The hum of the machine fills the kitchen.
“Speaking of warmth,” I say, leaning against the counter, “I’m really hoping you can come with us to Middleton-on-Sea. It’s beautiful down there this time of year. And I don’t care what Cameron says—we’ll get our own little cottage overlooking the sea. Just you and me.”
She doesn’t answer immediately. Her eyes flick to the floor, then back to mine. “Yeah, maybe.”
I frown. “What, you don’t want to go? Are you more into the Laponia idea? Because I’ll brave the snow as long as I’ve got twenty thermal layers, and if you promise me some sauna time.” I shoot her a grin, stepping closer to kiss her again. But she steps back.
My brows furrow. “What’s wrong?”
Her expression has dimmed, the sparkle in her eye snuffed out. “I’m sorry, Archie. I can’t do this.”
Her words hit me like a plunge into arctic water. I blink, my heart thudding. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t dothis. You. Us.” She gestures between us. “It’s not going to work.”
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that has settled there. “What are you talking about? Even the Universe thinks we’re perfect together. You live next door, we have fun, and we have things in common. Plus, we’re both extremely good looking, you’re a decent athlete, I’m fantastic—I mean, I don’t get it.” I cross my arms. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
She’s not even smiling at my words. Now I’m really worried.
“Kat, tell me,” I murmur, taking a step forward. “Is it something that I said or did?”
“No,” she breathes out, dragging herself to the living room. “I don’t know. I told you I didn’t want to be in a serious relationship. It’s not you, it’s—
“Yeah, it’s you, right?” I say, raking a hand through my hair.
I never got served that line before, and now I see how much it stinks.
“That’s not what I meant to say,” she sighs, shambling toward the entryway. “We’re just very busy. Neither of us really has time for a relationship anyway.”
“And yet we’reliterallytogether every other day,” I say, trailing after her. “We have plenty of proof that time isn’t an issue, so don’t hide behind that. Tell me the truth. If you don’t like me that way, it’s fine. But I need to know.”
She refuses tomeet my eyes. “Please, Archie. Just let it go.”
I arch an eyebrow, my heart rattling in my chest. “Let it go? How can I when this literally came out of nowhere? Am I really that delusional that I haven’t been seeing things clearly? Was I wrong about what I’ve seen in your eyes, your body language, your smile? If that’s the case, fine. Then, it’s on me, and I’ll back out. I promise.”
She presses her lips together, staring at her feet. “No, it’s not that. I do like you, and you’re right. I have strong feelings for you. But I just don’t see myself in a relationship. Besides, I don’t have the best track record,” she mutters, putting her shoes on.
“But that’s in the past,” I reply softly. “And you know I’ll treat you well. I’m a good guy, and I like you, Kat. I really,reallylike you.”
“But we don’t want the same things. Like I said, it’s not you. It’s really about me and about—” She bites her lip. “Never mind. I’d better go.”
Grabbing her coat, she crosses the landing to her apartment and opens the door, but I’m not letting her go that easily. There’s something wrong. I can feel it.
“Is it because of Middleton or Laponia? Because we don’t have to go,” I say, hustling after her. “I thought it would be nice, butif you don’t want to plan anything that feels too official, I get it. It’s fine.”
She sighs. “Archie, please…”
“I won’t leave until you tell me,” I say, crossing my arms. “Is there someone else?
“No!” she practically shouts, and I know she’s telling the truth.
“Thenwhat? What’s it about?” I pace the length of the small corridor, feeling like a pressure cooker that’s ready to explode.
“It’s about what I can, or rather cannot, do,” she says, her voice dipping an octave.
“What are you talking about?”
