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“That’s what I told you.” He sighed and ruefully shook his head. “But when I was inside you, I realized that all those rationales that I’d so meticulously stacked up were actually self-delusions, denials.”
“Of?”
“Of just how meaningful it would be. What happened between us on your bed actually wasn’t a test drive. I didn’t want to leave, not your body, not your house, not you. And realizing that scared the hell out of me. That’s why I left.”
“On winged feet.”
“Yeah.” He picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Tonight, when you were out of the room, Glenda said that my wanting to have sex with you was, under the circumstances, weird. I guess if you apply enough psychology to it, it would seem like that.”
“It seems like that to me, Calder.”
“I swear to you that if the Fairground shooting had never happened, and if we’d met at some other time and place, nothing weird about it, I would still have been blown away by you. I would have wanted you. You’ve gotta believe that, Elle.”
“I find it hard to believe. You’ve just admitted that you lied in order to have sex with me.”
“Not lied exactly.”
“Then what? What would you call it, exactly?”
“Justifications that I made work to my advantage.”
“So manipulation.”
“Shit. You’re not going to let me off this hook, are you?”
“No.”
He laid his forearm across his forehead. When he lowered it, he said, “All I can tell you is that last night wasn’t a sign-off. It did mean something, a lot of something, and made me want you even more.”
“Why, Calder? What can I possibly bring to your table?”
“You. You bring you.”
She gave a dry laugh. “Me and my cloud with long eyelashes and an insecure Mr. Sun who lives in fear of becoming a white dwarf? How would that fit in with your facts and figures and practicality?”
He lowered his face closer to hers. “We fit hand in glove, Elle. A very tight glove.”
Although his words and tone caused an involuntary flutter low and deep inside, she angled her head back away from his. “That’s manipulative.”
“Sorry. But it’s also true. Deny it, and you’ll be the liar.”
Frustrated by her own susceptibility to him, she said, “My fantasy fiction aside, I can be practical, too. I don’t think you and I, as a couple, are meant to be.”
He rested his head against the headboard and thought for a moment. “What if we were?”
“What?”
“What if our being a couplewasmeant to be? What if we had met in another place and time? Zing, bam, sparks fly. We were hot for each other. Couldn’t keep our eyes and hands off each other. In addition to the fanfuckingtastic sex, we liked each other as companions. All systems were a go.
“Then out of nowhere tragedy struck. Someone close to one or both of us died, and our life together was turned upside down. Poof. Would you compound that loss by throwingusaway?”
“Of course not.” When she heard her own response, she began to backtrack. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s the same except that we met after the tragedy, not before. That damn bullet is always going to be there, Elle. We can’t change that. What we can do is decide the amount of control it has over the rest of our lives. I want you. If last night was any indication, you want me.”
He stroked her cheek, low, near the ultra-sensitive corner of her lips. “A tragic circumstance brought us together. Will you let it be the one and only thing that keeps us apart?”
“That sounded prepared.”
