Page 35 of Keeping Knight

She tilts her head. “It’s not of course. A lot of people wouldn’t. Not something insignificant like that.”

“But it’s not insignificant,” I reply. “It was a memory you were sharing with me. About your parents. That made it important.”

“Micah.” Ruby takes a step closer. “You…” Trailing off, her expression clouds.

“I’m what?”

“Nothing,” she replies quickly. Her gaze darts away. “Anyway. How long until the pizza arrives?”

I want to push her on it. Find out what she was about to say. But I don’t. “About half an hour, they said.”

“Okay.” She tugs her lower lip between her teeth. “Do you want to watch TV while we wait?”

“We can.” Though I don’t mean it to, my gaze moves to her mouth. Her lips are the prettiest shade of pink, and they’re so plump and perfect they beg to be kissed.

No kissing, I remind myself. That’s not why Ruby’s here.

True. It isn’t why she came. But does that mean kissing can’t be a part of it? Especially if she wants it, the same as me?

Does she, though? The way she looks at me sometimes makes me think so—the times when she holds my gaze a little longer than normal, or her cheeks go unexpectedly pink, or when she touches me when she doesn’t have to?

And how about the other day, when I got back from her apartment? When she stroked my face and hugged me and pressed her lips to my neck. Those didn’t feel like things one friend would do with another. They felt like something you’d do when you’re interested in them.

Shit, if things were normal, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d come right out and ask. Or I’d skip that step and kiss her instead.

But if I’m wrong, and she only acted that way because she was overwhelmed, I don’t want to make Ruby uncomfortable. I don’t want her to feel like she has to leave.

Dammit. Why does this have to be so hard? Years I’ve spent trying to avoid relationships. And now I meet a woman I’m actually interested in at the worst possible time.

“What would you like to watch?” Ruby asks.

I cast my thoughts about for something suitable. Nothing violent, because I don’t want Ruby to be triggered by it. Something funny? But funny is subjective. Personally, I think the British version of The Office is far better than the American one. But if I say that to Jamie, one of the security guards at F&F, I’m pretty much guaranteeing myself a ten-minute-long debate.

“How about a cooking show?” I suggest. “One of those competitive ones? Maybe we can pick up some tips.”

Ruby brightens. “That’s a good idea. Although—” Her expression sobers.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to go back to class. I feel bad. If you want to go…”

“I’m not going to class without you.”

“You can. I’ll be okay here by myself. You have to go into work tomorrow anyway, so⁠—”

“Ruby. I am not going to cooking class without you. Period.”

She blinks in surprise. “Okay.”

Belatedly, I realize my tone was a little rougher than I usually use with her. Gentling it, I say, “I don’t want to go to class without you, Rue. You’re the reason I enjoy going. I’m not interested in partnering up with some other person. If you can’t go, I’m not either.”

She stares at me as thoughts work in her eyes. “But you could work with one of those girls next to us. Talia or Elowen.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Ruby shrugs. “I don’t know. They wouldn’t mind. And I just feel bad keeping you from doing something you enjoy.”

As I look at her, I feel as though I’m balanced on a precipice. Do I tell Ruby the truth, which is that I would have stopped going to class after the second week if not for her? That I’ve rearranged my schedule so I’m always available on Tuesday nights because I can’t stand the idea of not seeing her?

Or do I say something safe? Something that doesn’t carry the risk of pushing her away?