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His gaze darkened, and he crossed his arms. “I’m not womanizing. But you and I both know there’s something here. Why not see where it goes?”
I pressed a finger to the center of my forehead, feeling like I could burst at any second. The problem with seeing where it went was that our end points were different. He wanted it to lead to the bedroom. I wanted it to lead to forever. And given how long I’d known this man, how strongly I’d felt about him throughout my life, there was no chance I wouldn’t fall in love.
Actually, scratch that. I already was in love.Hell.
The realization spread through me like piss in a cold stream.
I loved Damian Fairchild, and messing around with him would only break me in the long run.
“I don’t have the energy to see where it goes,” I finally said, daring to meet his gaze. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to see where it goes. But I also don’t want to see where it goes.”
He hefted with a humorless laugh. “That’s not confusing at all.”
“You have to understand,” I said, making my voice lower as Trace emerged from the far hallway. He muttered something to himself and then disappeared into the house again. “You have a situation here with Harper. And I am allergic to situations.”
His mouth formed a thin line and he watched me heavily. I could see the wheels turning. The haze of arousal receding. The calculating clarity returning to his green eyes.
“Yeah. You’re right.” His voice sounded flat, and he nodded, looking past my shoulder.
Silence fell between us. I swallowed hard, realizing that I needed to either leave or go back on my word and kiss this man until the sun came up.
“I’m gonna go,” I said, more as a test. I took a few steps away, watching Damian carefully. Checking to see if he’d fling himself at me again. Or maybe he’d sink his fingers into my neck again.
Goosebumps flared, but nothing happened. He stood watching me with his hands on his hips, standing a defiant distance away.
“Your envelope is over there,” I said, pointing to it. Then I pointed to myself. “My dress and I are leaving.”
A grin ghosted his lips. “Bye, Jessa.”
I waved. And then I bolted.
I needed to be smart. Being smart meant keeping myself out of sticky situations with active girlfriends. Being smart meant keeping my head down, doing my job, and getting my fashion certificate.
That’s what I’d come here to do.
Nothing good could come from falling in love with—or messing around with—a man who was taken. Since I’d already failed on one of those fronts, I needed to hold the line on the other one.
No matter how hard it would be to say no to those perfect, kissable lips.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DAMIAN
Working from home today.
I considered making that my new auto-responder, so I didn’t have to send the same message every morning to Jessa. Because as Tuesday came, and then Wednesday, I realized I was in a very uncomfortable predicament.
I needed to keep myself away from Jessa as a precautionary measure, while every particle of my body craved her presence.
But I wouldn’t give in again. She’d found me in a moment of weakness. Her tenderness had split me in two, and I’d taken the bait. But not again.
Aside from the text I’d sent her Tuesday morning that simply said “I’m sorry,” I only reached out for work matters. And I truly was sorry. I was sorry it hadn’t gone further. I was sorry that I had every intention of kissing her again the next possible chance I had.
Mostly I was sorry that I wasn’t really sorry at all.
But it was for the best.For the best. For the best.
I had Harper on stand-by, and that arrangement made way more sense. Harper was the safe choice. The non-threatening one. Harper was the woman I could say no to, the woman I didn’t crave, the woman who wouldn’t upend my safety or stability.
