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She shrugged. “I run. You push.”
“Are you afraid to be more than this?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
She stared at the side of his face, at his pulsing jaw and his slow, contemplative blinks. His hair had fallen back over his forehead, and she wanted to reach up to move it, but then she recalled what had happened the last time.
“Let’s get everything out.” He turned his head, his eyes stealing the breath right out of her lungs. “Tonight, right now, let’s say what we want to say.”
“Then, we’ll go back,” she added. “We’ll go back to how things were. We’ll say our piece, and then we’ll forget any of this ever happened.”
His focus shifted slightly, as though he was looking from one eye to the other. “Forget you taking off my jacket? Forget the way you look right now? Forget the pen you gave me?”
She plodded through an exhale. “You start.”
“Down at the reception,” he began, “when you said you didn’t want to go to the roof but wanted to come to my room, what did that mean?”
“I wanted to go to your hotel room,” she said. “And I wanted you to take my clothes off. I wanted to make love to you, kiss you and hold you and smell you, and run my fingers through your hair while you’re inside me. I wanted to be close to you. So close to you.”
His pupils dilated, darkening the usual royal blue hue of his irises. “And what would have been wrong with that?”
“I’m not in a position where flings can provide me any benefits, especially not with you. You’re too important. Imagine us having just a sexual relationship when you’re such a big part of Josiah and Theo’s lives. That’s not fair to you, me, or their father’s memory. If it’s you, it’ll have to be more than that.”
“And you don’t think we can be?”
“What did you want to put on the table?” she redirected, an ache settling in her chest. Even if she had to lie to herself about them until whatever was happening between them ran its course, she would lie. “What did you want to get out so we can put it behind us?”
He reached out and slid her across the bed, up against him. Then he dropped a kiss on her brow, between them, and at the tip of her forehead, right at her hairline.
“Since we danced,” he ran his hand the entire length of her back, “I’ve wanted to get you back here.”
“Holding me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Now my confession makes me look like a horndog.”
He laughed. “You were just being honest. I appreciate that you were honest. And, for the record, I would have gladly taken your clothes off.”
She stroked his shoulder, kissed the base of his neck, and pressed her cheek against his chest.
Even if she had to lie.
And she would have to lie.
“That was nice,” he said. “Really nice.”
“Thisis nice.”
“I have one more thing, though,” he continued. “We’re heading back to Angola soon, hopefully for the last time, to wrap up an assignment. I want you and the boys to come stay with me for a few days, and then I’d like it if the three of you came to see me off.”
“But, after tonight, we’re going back to being just friends,” she said. “No forehead kisses, no holding each other, and no crazy lovemaking fantasies.”
“Can we at least agree that if in, let’s say, two years, we’re either back here or the feelings are stronger, we’ll have to start being honest with ourselves?”
“I can agree to that.”
