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“I guess I owe you an answer. I tried to wait up for you last night, but I was exhausted.”
“I was way later than I intended.” He frowned. “Sorry. I should have called or something.”
“Why? You don’t answer to me. I’m only a houseguest.”
“You’re notonlyanything,” he mumbled.
She blinked, unsure if she’d heard him correctly or she’d hallucinated the whole sentence. She wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but she couldn’t bring herself to. “It’s your turn,” she said instead.
Missing his second shot, he leaned back against the red brick wall and waited. The way he watched her, his eyes tracking her every movement, should set her on edge. She knew what it was to be studied so the person could use whatever they thought they saw against you later. But it never felt like that with James. Instead it felt like he was committing everything about her to memory.
“So.” He waited for her to line up, take her shot, and sink it. “You’ve decided?”
“Yeah. I think I have.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I want to stay in Philadelphia.”
His body jerked slightly, but he didn’t move from his position against the wall. “Philly’s a nice city.”
“It’s growing on me.”
“Please tell me you’re going to stay somewhere better than that shitty motel.”
She shuddered. “I am absolutely not going back to that place.”
She bit the inside of her lip. Maybe the next part of her plan was too forward. He’d been generous. She shouldn’t expect to be able to stay with him. Except being here with him was the only place that felt right. Even if she couldn’t explain it.
“I was actually wondering if…”
His fingers tightened on his pool cue, but his tone was light. “If?”
“If you wouldn’t mind a roommate?”
“A roommate.” Without breaking eye contact, he snapped his cue into the holder attached to the wall and moved to stand in front of her. “You want to stay here?”
She lifted a shoulder in what she hoped was a casual gesture, but she wasn’t sure she quite pulled it off with the way her heart was pounding. “It feels safe here. I can chip in for rent or do all the cooking. Or you can fire your cleaning service, and I’ll clean once a week.”
“That won’t be necessary. Are you sure it’s a good idea, though?”
There it was. The rejection. The proof that she’d read far too much into his willingness to put up with her and her mess.
“You’re right. Maybe it’s not. I don’t want to impose or be in the way. I’ll start looking for something right away. I’m sure there’s something I can afford that’s not dangerous or whatever.”
James stepped just close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. His blue eyes had darkened, and she couldn’t name the emotion that swirled in their depths, but it had something warm humming under her skin.
“That’s not what I meant.”
She swallowed hard. “What then?”
“All I can think about when I’m in the same room with you is how I want to kiss you. It’s getting harder and harder to stop thinking about that.”
“Maybe I’m thinking about that too.” Feeling bold, she laid her cue down across the felt. “Maybe I can’t stop thinking about your hands and your lips and that noise you make in the back of your throat when I press against you.”
He took another step closer, and her ass hit the edge of the pool table. “As soon as I start thinking about kissing you, I can hear your little moans and sighs in my head, and then my brain wonders what other kinds of sounds you make. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to cross that line and find out.”
Her eyes dropped to his lips, and every reason she’d listed in her head since meeting him about why she absolutely, positively could not get involved with this man was suddenly impossible to recall.
“Why not?” Her voice was a whisper.
“Because we can’t uncross it.” His breath fanned over her lips as he slowly, finally, pressed his body against hers. “Because I want to keep you safe.”
