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She sat up. Leaned toward him. “Oh, come on, Michael. This is me. And you. It’s us. I confess all of my stuff to you.” Surely he could see that. “And why on earth would I need to placate you? You’d think you’re the only man who’s had the hots for me, and as you pointed out, you’re a guy and the feelings are natural. Surely you don’t think it’s up to me placate them all?” She was pouring it on a little strong. Probably because of the feelings coursing through her. But she meant every word, too.
“You really expect me to believe that I turn you on?” His gaze was piercing.
“Don’t you see, Michael? Any time in the past three weeks that I’ve thought about sex, or even about being alone with a man, I get all claustrophobic feeling. Even with Bo, and I used to find him really attractive. Now, when I see my skin, I just want to cover it up. When Bo suggested that I was frigid because of what happened, and intimated, at first, that it could last a lifetime, I asked Dr. Freelander about it. She told me that it could, but it might not, and with therapy there’s a good chance it won’t. But with all of my issues, it could.” The therapist hadn’t put it quite that dramatically, but it was the gist of what Kacey had taken away from the session.
He was still focused on her. Sort of nodding. She couldn’t read him at all.
“And tonight, here I am, alone with you, and ever since you got out of your car in the studio parking lot, I’ve been...feeling stuff. For you.”
“It’s just a phase. Part of your recovery. Because you feel safe with me.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think so. I’ve actually felt the feelings before. But they didn’t, you know...fit. Us. They weren’t appropriate.”
“And you think now they are?” He sounded like he was asking her if she thought it was okay to run in front of a moving train.
“No! I don’t know. At the moment I just feel good about feeling like that at all.”
He grinned then. “It’s like I’ve always said, we make quite a pair.”
He had said that. Many times.
She was beginning to wonder if he might be more on the mark than either of them had known.
“Would it be so wrong, Michael? For us to...for our relationship to grow in another direction?” He might think it was the wine talking. She knew it was not. Less than two glasses over an evening was nothing to a woman who’d consumed two bottles of wine on her own in a single night not all that long ago.
He looked like he’d seen a ghost. But now was the time to talk about this. While they were in Beverly Hills, away from Santa Raquel and all of the reasons why they shouldn’t talk about it.
They were in her home, and they had all night.
“Yes,” he finally said, sounding a little like he was strangling. “It would.”
She didn’t ask why. She could recite his reservations as well as he could. And acknowledged that he could be right about all of them.
“I’m not talking about coming out about our relationship,” she told him, making things up as she went along, but driven by something stronger than anything she’d felt in years. “Or about trying to join our entire lives together. But if we both want it, would it be so wrong for our friendship to include a physical side? At least for a little while?”
“And what happens to our friendship when one of us wants to sleep with someone else?”
“You think I’ll walk out on you.”
“No, because you aren’t walking in...there...to begin with.”
“Okay, so let’s explore the physical side without walking in. I’m feeling heat, Michael. It’s the first time in a long time.”
“That attack was less than a month ago, Kace. And, believe me, I’m glad that you’re coming back to life
, but...”
She was shaking her head fiercely. He stopped talking.
“No, Michael, I mean a long time.”
“But you said with Bo...”
She nodded. “And I stopped having relations with him months ago. Before that I had to work at getting the feelings. And before, Bo, too. It’s never been like this, Michael. Strong and tempting and...hot.” Just like him.
He shook his head. “You are not going to talk me into this, Kacey Hamilton.” He looked her dead in the eye. “Not tonight, at least. We both need to step back. To—”
“Take two aspirin and see how we feel in the morning?” she interrupted. She was okay with that. He’d said all she needed to hear. Not tonight, at least. He’d implied, unequivocally in her mind, that she’d have another shot at talking him into making love to her. And that there was every chance that she’d be successful.
