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But then he pulled away. “Oh,” she breathed on a sigh of disappointment.
He shook his head. “I’ve gotta go before I lose all my willpower.”
“Oh,” she repeated, slightly dazed. Willpower to resist her? “Okay. Wow. You’re way better at that than any of those New York guys.”
His laugh was a little strained as his hands finally slid free of her waist and he stepped back. “I’m pretty damn happy to hear that. I guess that means the chemistry is okay.”
“It’s all right, but we should probably try again soon to be sure.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” she repeated.
“I get off work at six. Are there any trails we could hit with just an hour or two of daylight?”
“Trails?” she said, aware that her brain wasn’t quite back to working order.
“I thought we could go for a hike.”
She stared at him for a long moment before a sweet happiness filled her up inside. He didn’t want to go to an art show or an avant-garde movie or a noisy bar. He wanted to take her hiking. “That’d be great,” she said. “There’s a trail that starts a few blocks away.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She reached behind her and twisted the doorknob before she could say anything weird, then let her body weight swing the door in. She closed and locked it in the same slow state. Her body felt heavy. Pulled down. It made her want to kick off all her clothes and slide into bed. Was that how so many women ended up accidentally sleeping with men they hadn’t meant to? A lazy, languid slide into bed from the sheer weight of arousal?
“Wow,” she breathed. She was going to have sex. Real sex. With him.
Well, she assumed she was. She wanted to. And he seemed...favorably inclined.
Veronica stayed pressed against the door for quite a long time, imagining that mouth on hers again. And then she imagined that mouth moving lower. Down her neck, over her shoulder and then lower to her breasts. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe slowly, but the thought of that slow tongue on her nipples made her pant. And then...
And then.
She tossed her keys on the table and slipped off the flip-flops, smiling stupidly down at her blue toenails. She went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water to take to bed, but she found herself standing in front of the fridge, staring at the notes.
#1—Let people see the real you.
Maybe that had been a good idea, after all. Maybe it had been genius. After all, if you wanted someone to fuck the real you, you had to be visible. Maybe her problem for so long had been that she’d dated guys who’d never known the real her. What was it she’d thought they would like about her, anyway? The wall she’d put up? The clothing she wore like a costume? The fake confidence?
She’d been herself tonight, as much as she could manage right now, anyway, and Gabe had liked it. So maybe...
#2—Ask your friends for help.
Girls’ night was coming up. The same night as her birthday. Maybe she’d feel more mature. Maybe she’d be more experienced. She’d have Lauren and Isabelle alone and she could ask for their advice about Gabe or her dad or her job. And she had days to work up to it.
But first she had a date with Gabe.
***
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dear Veronica,
I’ve received an amazing job offer that would allow me to move from Wyoming to a big city on the West Coast. I’ve always wanted to live somewhere fast-paced, and even though the budget would be tight, I could swing it. But I haven’t mentioned this offer to anyone else. The problem is my fiancé. He can’t move and he would never want to live in the city. I love him with all my heart, but if I stay here and get married, I’ll never get to follow my other dreams. I’m only twenty-five. Maybe I’m not ready to live in Wyoming for the rest of my life.
—Torn
VERONICASTAREDAT the screen. She’d already opened this email three times. And closed it twice.
