“Seems pretty clear.” She nods, crossing her arms over her chest.
I step closer, not invading, but undeniable. Close enough that I can feel the heat of her body, the tension she’s pretending isn’t there.
“I stopped because I didn’t want to pretend,” I grit out.
She laughs softly, incredulous. “Pretend what?”
“That it would be nothing.” My voice drops. “When I already know it’s not.”
She takes a small step back, her eyes darting to my mouth. “That sounds noble. It also sounds like an excuse.”
She’s pushing back because I know she feels it too. My jaw tightens. “For what?”
“For not choosing,” she fires back. “For wanting something without taking responsibility for it.”
That one lands deep. Because it’s close enough to the truth to hurt. “I chosenotto fuck this up,” I grumble, frustration bleeding through. “There’s a difference.”
She shakes her head, eyes shining now. “I don’t need someone protecting me from myself.”
“You sure about that?” My question is harsh, but I’m also angry now. “You knew I wanted to hook up with you when we were in New York, and again at our last show in Chicago. You were sure happy to flirt with me in both places. And then you shut me down the second I followed through.
I step closer, placing a hand on the counter and lean into her. “I’m just supposed to roll over and be your boy toy becauseyou’ve decided you want me now? Forgive me for wanting to take a beat to figure that shit out.”
Her eyes pop wide as she stares up at me, her mouth opening, then closing. The silence stretches, thick and electric, both of us breathing too shallow.
“Believe me when I tell you I want you,” my voice drops. “Especially after I already know what your mouth tastes like. But I’m also not going to be stupid.” That honesty cracks something open between us.
She doesn’t deny it. That matters. She swallows. “This was supposed to be simple.”
“I know.”
“And now it’s not.”
“No,” I chuff softly. “Now it’s honest.” For a heartbeat, I think she’s going to close the distance. I don’t move, and neither does she.
“I’m sorry,” she looks into my eyes, voice barely steady. “I’m embarrassed that I let this get further than I planned.”
“You don’t have to do that. Hide.” I shake my head and take a step back from her. “Please don’t.” I take a small step back. “We said one step at a time. I’m trying here.”
“Okay.” She whispers.
Something in me settles. Not calm. But resolve. She looks at me like she doesn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
“I’m going to my room now.” She places a hand on my arm and gives it a quick squeeze. “Because I’m exhausted and because it’s been a shitty day. I promise I’m not hiding.”
I look down at her hand. That small contact? So not helping. I look up and meet her gaze. “We good?”
“We’re good.” Her fingers trail off my skin as she walks away and down the hall. The door clicks shut. I stand there long after, heart pounding, apartment buzzing with everything I said. I should feel relief. I should feel steadier.
Instead, I feel like I just crossed a line I can’t uncross. This isn’t restraint anymore.
We’re way past that. The next time one of us breaks, it’s not going to stop with a kiss.
Chapter Fourteen
Quinn
Decode
