Page 42 of Meant to be Mine

“I’m okay,” I said, frowning. “But I think it’s best if we call it a night.”

“Don’t run, Kensey.”

“Relax, Drew,” I said gently. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I just need to sleep and sort through all these crazy thoughts in my head. It’s been a hell of a night. You’ve been an exceptional prom date.”

A smile brightened his face. “It was an honor. Totally worth waiting a decade to get it right.”

“Thank you, Drew.”

He nodded. “Well, if you’re leaving, at least take the limo home.”

“He’s still out there?” I asked.

Drew shrugged. “I didn’t know what was going to happen, so I asked him to stick around. Trust me, he doesn’t mind. He’s getting crazy overtime for this.”

I nodded and excused myself to the bathroom to straighten up. Then Drew walked me through the quiet house to the front drive, hugged me goodbye, and helped me into the back seat with the same careful politeness we’d always used with each other. The door closed. The limo pulled away.

The ride back was a blur. My body still hummed from everything we’d done, from the taste of him, and the way he’d touched me like he’d been waiting years. My mind raced ahead, tripping over every possible outcome.

Could we ever look at each other the same way? I didn’t want to think what it meant. I couldn’t stand the idea I’d just lost the one person I couldn’t afford to lose.

15

DREW

Iwoke up and didn’t move for several seconds. I searched my memory, trying to decide if last night actually happened. It had. My lips still felt the ghost of it. My cock twitched at the memory of her lips around me. I groaned and reached down to adjust the erection that got the wrong idea about the memory.

It had happened. Her hands in my hair. The sounds she made. The way she’d looked up at me with her eyes dark and her mouth slightly parted. I’d done that. I’d wanted to do that for longer than I was willing to admit to anyone, including myself.

The joy was real. I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. It felt like relief, actually. Like I’d been holding my breath for a decade and hadn’t known it. We’d both wanted that. Maybe needed it. I also wanted a lot more than that. I just wasn’t sure if she was looking for more, too.

She’d left abruptly, saying she was tired. It had been a long day, so I could understand that. Lord knows, I had slept like the dead afterward, totally spent. But my fear was that she’d left because she regretted hooking up.

I ran a hand over my face. She was my best friend. The person I called when everything went sideways. I’d spent years watching myself blow up relationships with women, and it had never cost me anything I couldn’t afford to lose. This was different. This was Kensey. Losing her would be catastrophic.

I made myself get up. There was no point lying there, running the same loop. I showered and stood under the hot water, contemplating my schedule for the day. But dammit, every time I thought about a task that needed to be done, I thought about the sounds she’d made. I turned the temperature down until the water was cold enough to be unpleasant and stood there until my thoughts were back in the PG range.

I dressed in slacks and a button-up but skipped the jacket and tie. It was too fucking hot and I didn’t have any meetings I needed to impress anybody at. I sipped my coffee, staring out at the view that had impressed her last night. And then I thought about what Callum said the night before. One of you is going to have to be brave at some point.

I had been brave with Kensey last night. Now I needed to find out if it had been a huge mistake.

By the time I pulled into the garage, I had more or less convinced myself that it was going to be fine. We were adults. We were friends who knew each other better than most people knew themselves. Whatever happened last night could be talked about or not talked about depending on what she needed. I would follow her lead. I was good at reading her. As soon as I read her expression, I would know which way the wind was blowing.

I kept one eye on the time as I sat in my office. She was usually in by nine. Nine came and went. I read the same paragraph in the report twice and still couldn’t have told you what it said. Nine fifteen. Nine thirty.

I got up and walked to the window overlooking the floor. I told myself I was checking on the morning crowd. There were a handful of browsers already. A couple in the bridal section. Edith was stationed near the bar talking to one of the associates.

No Kensey.

I went back to my desk, and finally, she texted me. Not going to make it in today. Exhausted after the late night. I think it caught up with me. Not feeling great. I’ll be in tomorrow for sure.

“Shit.”

She wasn’t sick. I knew her. She was thinking. She was doing the thing she did when she needed to process something. I’d watched her do it after difficult conversations when we were teenagers. After her first bad breakup. After she got the news about the New Jersey job.

Me: That’s fine. Rest up. Take care of yourself. The wrap-up is handled. Don’t worry about it.

I sat back in my chair and kicked my own ass. Why hadn’t I controlled myself? I knew who she was to me and I’d let the champagne and the dress and the dancing override every reasonable instinct I had. Bravery was dumb. Callum’s advice was dog shit.