AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was breathing hard, doing his best to rein in the craving thrumming through his veins.
“Graham, I’m so sorry.” Her nose wrinkled as she held up the phone. The glass face was lined with hundreds of tiny, spiderweb cracks.
He was sorry, too. But not over his stupid phone. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.”
The cat meowed, flopping over and rolling onto her back.
“She’s sorry.” Felicity glanced his way, her cheeks flushing red.
He looked at the cat and ran a hand along the back of his neck. What was he doing? He wasn’t sixteen years old. He knew how to control himself. He jerked his shirt into place and began buttoning, missing a button.
“I’ll replace it,” she offered.
“It’s fine, Felicity.” Then why was he snapping at her? Don’t be an asshole.
“You’re mad?”
“No.” But he still sounded mad. He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you.”
“At the cat?” She was trying to tease him, but she looked, and sounded, nervous.
“I should thank the cat.” He tucked his shirt into his pants.
“Oh.” Her brows shot up, and she chewed on the inside of her lower lip. “Because he stopped…us.” Her nose wrinkled up, and she hugged herself.
I am now officially an asshole. Talking about emotions didn’t come easily—as was evidenced by his daughter’s need for therapy. Even though he didn’t know what the hell to say or what exactly he was feeling, he couldn’t walk away from this. Uncomfortable or not, he had to try talking to Felicity.
“When I’m with you, everything gets…scrambled up.” He swallowed. “I forget things. Important things. Like control. Cause and effect. Being responsible.”
She was frowning at him now.
“I don’t want to risk ruining what we have.” He swallowed again. “Or losing you.”
Her mouth opened, but she didn’t say a word. She stood there, flushed and bright-eyed, staring at him. What the hell did that mean? Was he making it worse? He was pretty sure he was.
But now that he’d started, he couldn’t seem to stop talking. “What was happening here tonight—”
“M-me throwing myself at you, you mean?” Her words ran together, and she covered her face with her hands.
Dammit. He was making this worse. He stepped forward, pulling her hands away, but she continued to stare at his shirtfront. “I’m not complaining.”
Her head popped up, those green eyes fixed on his face.
“But if we do this, I don’t want to rush into things. Or mess it up.” His voice lowered. “You’re important. And this”—he took her hand in his—“scares the shit out of me.”
Her gaze fell from his to their hands. Her thumb traced along the top of his hand before her fingers threaded with his. She took a deep breath. “We’re on the same page, then.” When she looked at him, he could breathe again. “What do we do now?”
He had plenty of ideas. Things to look forward to. For now, he’d be content to hold her hand and savor her smile. “A dance?” he asked, the radio playing Nat King Cole’s version of “As Time Goes By.”
“Yes, please.”
Would he ever get used to that smile?
He wasn’t sure what he liked more—her smile or the feel of her in his arms. They swayed more than anything, his arms around her waist, her head resting against his chest. With any luck, the song was on repeat.
Praline meowed loudly, leaping from the dresser to weave between his legs.
“I’ll deal with you later,” he murmured, loving the way Felicity laughed.
