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Dragging a hand through his hair, he returned to the fridge, pulling out a wine bottle and filling a glass. He held it towards her as a peace offering. She eyed it carefully, then shook her head.
“I should go,” she said quietly. “I have work to do.”
It was the right thing to do. The smart thing. But he didn’t want her to keep avoiding him. He was sick of knowing she was here and not being able to see her nor touch her.
“This isn’t — I’m not —,”
“Yes?” She pursed her lips in a gesture of impatience.
“This isn’t about you,” he said, finally.
“You’ve told me that already,” she said quietly. “You told me it’s about you coming here to be alone, and so I’m leaving you alone. That’s what you want, right?”
Wasn’t it?
What the hell was the matter with him?
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
Great question. He slammed back his beer, cradling the cold bottle in the palm of his hand and watching her thoughtfully.
“I like being with you.”
She rolled her eyes and began to stalk past him. “That’s just sex,” she snapped. “And I know that’s what we agreed to, so I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but liking sleeping with me isn’t the same thing as liking being with me.”
“I know that.” His hand reached out and curled around her wrist, arresting her before she could reach the door. She stopped walking, glaring at him, her lips parted on a whoosh of surprise. “When I say I like being with you, I mean it. I like your stories and your laugh, the way you get excited when you talk about food. I enjoy your company.”
Her eyes were wide as she stared at him in obvious shock. “You say that as though you’ve just written your own death warrant,” she muttered after a minute, wrenching her hand free. “And I’ve had enough of people liking me ‘except for this’ or ‘except for that’. I’ve had enough of people wishing with all their souls that they didn’t actually care about me.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
She was wary, but didn’t insist on leaving him.
“Nothing’s changed,” he frowned. “Nothing can change, for many reasons – yours and mine. This is what it is: a few days out of time. But I don’t want to ignore you and avoid you. I don’t want to push you away when the truth is, you’re all I can think about, Isabella Moss.”
She startled, her eyes lifting to his, her teeth jabbing into her lip.
“I don’t want you to ignore me.”
“You sure? Because you made it pretty obvious that’s exactly what you wanted the day after we —,”
“Yes, I know,” he agreed sotto voice. “I panicked.”
More surprise etched itself across her face. “You panicked?”
“You looked at me as though — you were so happy and I freaked out. I don’t do this. Ever. Being trapped here together means I can’t —,”
“Escape,” she supplied with a hint of fiery sarcasm. “Are you really such a shit that you only have sex with women you can run away from?”
Despite the tenor of their argument, he laughed, a short, sharp sound. “I suppose I do.”
She, however, was not amused. “Why?”
His smile dropped. No. He wasn’t going there.
“My point is, I think we should work out a different way to exist here. Something more — mutually satisfying than this.”
