Not the fireworks. This. The staying.
I kiss her temple again. Then give her right nipple a little lick. She smells like hotel soap and Ava and something that is quickly becoming dangerously familiar.
I get off the bed to dispose of the condom and come back with a warm, wet towel. I give her a gentle wipe down and then pull her against me.
She’s drifting when she suddenly says, very quietly,
“Maybe I shouldn’t write the article.”
That gets my attention.
“Why?”
She doesn’t look up immediately. Just keeps tracing more small shapes against my skin.
“Because Chloe nearly lost her job when things between her and Tom became… personal.” She hesitates. “And she actually had apoint to defend. Professional integrity and all that. I don’t think I do.”
I frown slightly. “You always have integrity. It’s practically your defining feature.”
That earns me a small huff of laughter, but she still looks serious.
“It just feels…” She searches for the word. “Cleaner if someone else writes it. No confusion. No questions about whether I went easy on you because…” Her fingers press lightly into my chest. “…because this is happening.”
I tilt my head slightly. “And whatishappening here?”
She freezes slightly, then lets out a small nervous laugh.
“I’m not very experienced at dating,” she admits. “But even I know as a woman you’re never supposed to be the one who says first where something is heading.”
I can’t help it. I smile.
“I think that rule applies to dating twenty-year-old twerps who think relationships are some sort of chess match.”
She finally looks up at me.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
I brush a strand of hair away from her face. She watches me like she’s trying to read something important there.
“I think when you’re our age,” I continue, “you either say what you mean or you waste a lot of time pretending you don’t care when you do.”
She swallows slightly.
“And?”
And there it is. The real question.
I hadn’t planned to say it tonight. Hadn’t planned anything beyond wanting to be near her again. But it feels stupid not to say it now.
“I’m falling for you,” I tell her simply.
Her fingers still against my chest.
“I didn’t plan it,” I admit. “Honestly I was just hoping you’d like me enough to keep talking to me after this week.”
That gets the smallest smile.
