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“It’s just…we are what we are, and that’s that.” She pauses. “Right?”
Fuck, that is not what I wanted to hear. But what do I want to hear? Doesn’t matter now. She is shutting it down. I gulp. “Right.”
“And we’re both happy with how things are between us. Right?”
I do not know. “Right.”
8
Autumn
“I get it, Rowan. It’s okay.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I have to fix this. He’s my oldest friend. My favorite friend. I can’t ruin that because I’m horny.
“Uh, what is it you get?”
“We’re both dedicated to our jobs. And you have Ellie and Jonah to think of. I mean, not that I don’t think of them too, but obviously, not the same way as you do—
“Right.”
Ugh, stop rambling and get to the point, woman. “So, what I’m saying is, we did the smart thing the other night.”
He frowns and almost smiles at the same time. A trademark Rowan expression of bemusement. “How do you mean?”
“Because after we kissed, we didn’t let things get out of hand. Well, they were already out of hand—
“I’ll say.”
“But we didn’t take things too far, and I think we should be proud of ourselves for that.”
Slowly, he nods. “I think I get what you mean. We could have gotten carried away—
“Right, and—
“Ended up in the backseat of my Mercedes. Or my office,” he jokes and gives me a coy smile.
I gulp my Riesling. “Exactly. And we didn’t—
He laughs and gives me a wink. “Could you imagine? It’s such a cliché. Me, sweeping my desk clean and setting you on top of it…”
He lets his words trail off. Something overcomes me and I pick up where he left off.
“Me, wrapping my legs around you, pulling you close by your tie…” I whisper.
His face falls serious as his amusement fades into something else. His voice lowers into something like a growl. “I’d let my hand trail down your back and around your waist.”
My mouth goes dry. “Praying you locked the door when we walked in…”
Quickly, we both drink the rest of our wine and look for the server. After a refill and ordering supper, though, I switch to water. The safe beverage. The beverage of friendship.
Rowan smiles. “Yes, so we can be proud of ourselves for not falling into the trap of passion and ruining something good. Because that’s all it was. Right?”
“Mm, hmm. Too much wine, too much reminiscing.”
“Too much loneliness.”
“You’re lonely, too?”
He shrugs those broad shoulders of his, and I fight the urge to climb them. “Of course I am, Autumn. As much as I love my work, it’s work. It doesn’t love me back.”
