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But that’s no excuse. I know that. It’s also no reason. And yet, I came so close to actually kissing him. What’s more, he looked as desperate to kiss me as I had felt. The air had been charged bybothof our want, our desire. That kiss was something he was craving just as much as I was, and I have no fucking idea what to do with that information.
The whole night, I was an erratic combination of overwhelming desire and panic. The two emotions are at war with another; the former wanting me to get as close to Leo as possible, but the latter warns me of how terrible of an idea this is. It warns me against making a decision I could very well end up regretting. Risking my job for what? A hook up with an insanely attractive and equally as kind football player? I have more dignity than that.
Except, then I think of how the hint of a touch from his lips brushing against mine had felt, and I wonder if I really do have more dignity than that. Because if a ghost of a touch could invoke such torrential reactions out of my body, what could a real kiss from Leo make me feel?
The way the night ended was more than enough to distract me from almost running into my ex, Oliver, at the club. Fortunately, Sara had spotted him, and she and Pattie were perfectly alright with me running up to the VIP section to hide away. Lucky for me, Camila’s nephew Jaxon is the co-owner of the club, so while I occasionally get free drinks, I also have a hiding spot in the VIP section upstairs where Oliver can’t find me.
But Leo had, and now here we are, in the aftermath of an almost kiss that was so, so close to happening.
I’m both relieved and stupidly disappointed at the same time.
Goddammit, how am I supposed to face Leo after that? The embarrassing heat in my skin only intensifies after my hot shower, desperately wishing I could hide away once again. Even if the guest house is Leo’s and not an ideal hiding spot.
I’m drying my hair when my phone lights up on the sink counter with a text, and I quite literally feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach at Leo’s name. Speak of the fucking devil. With a dry mouth, I reach for my phone and unlock it, preparing myself to read the text with a skittish pulse.
You can take the morning off. I don’t have practice until later today at 4:30. So you’re free until then.
I blink a couple of times at his text, straightforward and to the point, as if I expected the lingering intensity from last night to be felt through his message. A flurry of emotions rushes through me: relief that I don’t have to face Leo yet, and a renewed sense of panic at the idea of losing my job. Leo and I were both just as guilty for what almost happened last night, and as good of a man as I think him to be, it also wouldn’t be surprising if he sent me packing and looked for a new nanny. For fuck’s sake, we almostkissed. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t go all the way—the intention was there. How do we walk back from that?
I quickly send him an affirmative reply before texting Sara, asking her if she’s busy and if I could come over if she isn’t. My best friend, fortunately, replies by the time I’m finished drying my hair and tells me to come over as long as I bring her coffee. She doesn’t have to tell me twice.
Twenty minutes later, I’m walking into her apartment with two coffees and some buttered croissants from Starbucks. “Oh, God, what happened?” is the first thing she says to me while closing the door behind me. “You’ve got this panicked look on your face.”
“Somethinghappened,” I say when I’m at the kitchen counter, handing Sara her cold brew. She arches an eyebrow, a silent imploration, and my stomach twists as I stare at my best friend, who stands on the opposite side of the counter sipping her coffee. The words tumble out of me. “Leo and I almost kissed last night.”
It’s rushed and quick like I can’t get them out fast enough, but Sara hears and understands all the same. She damn near chokes on her coffee, coughing into the back of her hand before her watery eyes widen at me in incredulity. “What?” she demands, her voice turning high pitched the way it does when she’s overexcited. “Shut the fuck up—rewind. What are you—how did that even happen?”
“I don’t know!” I say, my blood pumping as my pulse races. Running a hand through my hair, I shake my head. “I mean, when I was riding back home with them, there was another woman that he was apparently on a double date with.” Sara’s eyes widen. “And then Leo walked me to the guest house and he said—” My throat works, memories of last night once again coming through, and my skin warms up as Leo’s words echo through my head. “He said that he could see that it bothered me that he was out with someone else.” Sara gasps, her jaw slackened as the fire in my skin intensifies as I rush on, “And I told him it’s none of my business and that it doesn’t matter how I feel and he said it matters to him what I thought and then we almost kissed but, like,didn’t.”
I’m breathing heavily by the time I finish my recounting of last night’s events. Sara looks absolutely stunned, the apartment descending into silence as I give her a chance to process all of this information. I take a sip of my caramel Frappuccino, hoping the chilly drink cools me down, but it does nothing to calm my racing heart. Repeating what happened out loud makes it all seem more unreal, like a damn fever dream, but by Sara’s expression, I know it’s too true, too real.
“What the fuck, Alex!” Sara is gaping at me in disbelief, lips parted as she shakes her head. “You—oh, my God.Wereyou jealous that he was on a date with someone else?”
“No,” I answer quickly. Too quickly. I see her expression fall flat and disbelieving, and the heat in my cheeks intensifies. “Okay, fine, maybe a little. Even though I have no reason to be and it’s wrong.”
“Wrong?” Sara repeats with a snort. She smirks slightly. “The only thing wrong about this is that you two didn’t actually kiss.”
“Sara!” I exclaim, eyes widening. “Ican’tkiss him. If the agency finds out, I’ll get fired and won’t be able to work as a nanny again. In Chicago, at least.”
My friend rolls her eyes reaching for one of the croissants. “How’s the agency going to find out? I doubt Leo would tell them, if he wanted to kiss you, too.”
She has a point, but it’s minor. I throw her a deadpan stare. “I’m not going to be some porno cliché where the nanny fucks the dad.”
Sara’s eyes widen and she smirks delightfully. “Alex, I was just talking about kissing,” she says slyly, knowingly. “You’re the one who took it that far.”
I take a balled-up napkin and toss it at her face, despite the hysterical urge to laugh. “I’m serious,” I say, clamping my laughter down. There is nothing funny about this situation. “I’m not a nanny so I can hook up with the hot, single dads. I’m doing this for the kids.”
“I know,” she reassures me, all traces of humor disappearing. “It was analmostkiss, Alex. And from what you’re telling me, you both wanted it. If he fires you for it, then he’s a dick. But I don’t think he will.”
My stomach twists. The thought of not being around Lilah dries my throat and sends a pang of ache through me. That sweet little girl is wonderful to be around; I love spending time with her. I hope, so badly, that I didn’t fuck this up. Eyes squeezing shut and a groan escaping me, I lower my head until it is resting on my folded arms on the counter. “How am I supposed to face him? This is so embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not!” Sara exclaims, making me reluctantly lift my head to look at her. “Just play it off as a heat of the moment type of thing. You both had been drinking last night—what’s to say it wasn’t the alcohol that was motivating you guys?”
Isay it wasn’t, because I fantasize about Leo even when I’m sober. But I keep my mouth shut.
Sara shoots me a pointed look. “If you’re feeling embarrassed, then he should be feeling it too, Alex. He’s your boss. Isn’t there some power dynamic at play here?”
I arch my eyebrow, straightening up. “I wouldn’t go that far,” I say before tilting my head. “Weren’t you all for me almost kissing him, like, forty seconds ago?”
