Page 36 of Sweet Heart

“Not just because of my career,” she continues as she keeps holding my gaze, “but because of what this could possibly be.”

“Okay…”

“I could rationalize this away. Call it proximity, adrenaline, projection…”

I swallow hard when she checks to see that I am still with her and dips her chin slightly before she continues.

“I could push this away until it fades.” Her voice trembles slightly, and for the first time since she started speaking, she drops her gaze. “But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to pretend this is nothing.”

She looks up at me again, her dark eyes taking me in from under thick eyelashes. I can barely breathe, barely keep standing. I hear my blood roar in my ears, and feel my chest constrict with anticipation.

“Not when I feel like this could be everything,” Cat adds softly.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, about us. About how right this feels. And that… that scares me.”

Cat raises her eyes, a soft frown creasing her brow, and her vulnerability becomes palpable. Her confession rattles my system, hitting every single bone in my body. It is almost enough to make me pull her closer, but I can’t. Not yet.

“What are you scared of?” I ask softly, curling my fingers around her wrist. “Do you fear how people will respond?”

She lets her gaze linger on my hand, and her cheeks color slightly before she swallows, rolls her shoulders back, and shakes her head.

“No, they are irrelevant.”

Her eyes flick away for a second, but then find mine again. Determined now.

“I’ve never felt this pull toward anyone before, Maria. I don’t know how to…” She gestures between us, the crease between her eyebrows deepening. “How to do this.”

I smile carefully at her.

“Who says you need to know it all? Maybe this is something we need to figure out together.”

The crease smooths out, and she nods.

“Yes, maybe it is.” Simple.

She smiles, and the press of her hand against my cheek becomes just a little more tender. My heartbeat slows down at the caress, and I find myself smiling back when the faint metallic click of a spyhole shutter snaps through the hallway.

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath.

Phill is at it again. That old bugger seriously gives me the creeps. I glance at my door and nod toward it.

“Care to come in?”

Cat lets her gaze glide over the door opposite mine, and the click sounds again. She frowns and lifts her chin. She keeps her eyes on the door a beat longer before slowly turning her head toward me, her gaze following last. She nods once, in understanding.

“I’d prefer that, yes.”

I let her into my apartment, kick off my shoes, and then casually walk over to the kitchen to put away the groceries while she takes in the surroundings. She is actually here in my home, and I am not sure how to feel about it.

There is something so intimate about the way her fingers caress the spines of my books, the way her eyes roam over the pencil drawing on the wall, and the way she stops to stare out of the window for a few beats. As if up until this moment, she had only skirted around my life, and now she has fully stepped into it. But did she?

“Cat,” I say softly, and she hums before turning to face me. “What happens now?”

She runs her hands over her slacks and takes a moment before she answers. Carefully, deliberately.

“Usually, people go on a few dates. They see if they are a good match, and if there is more between them than just physical attraction.”

I chuckle.