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I won’t.
“We can be friends, you know,” I say. Maybe that will be the olive branch that smooths this out so we can go back to pretending. And so I can forget how he felt inside me, practically hollowing me out and making me burn in ways I felt the next day. “We can talk about things without making something formal about it. It’s okay to just talk to me about what you’re thinking. And ...” I swallow. Yeah, I’m a bit nervous. “And we can talk about what we did.”
August tilts his head, considering it, before he says, “I appreciate that. More than I can tell you.” There’s a way he talks when I know he’s sincere, bringing that panther purr back to his voice. “I do like you, Elle. I respect you.”
Ugh, I said no fluttering.
Make my heart stop.
I look away from him again. My face burns.
I don’t want him to see me blushing when I don’t want to stop being mad at him just yet.
“I don’t know that I’ve done anything to earn your respect,” I say.
“Then you aren’t aware of your own admirable qualities,” he points out, blunt as ever.
See? Tactless flipping goober.
“Flattery won’t make me forgive you,” I say loftily. Mostly to the sea lions, because I’m still not looking at August. “But if my friend wants to flatter me, I won’t complain.”
Yeah.
Because friends totally attack each other like animals in heat.
Stop thinking about it, or you’re just going to want it again.
Too late.
My thighs are already tense, my insides clenching.
Am I ready to let that whole thing go just because he makes me so horny?
A soft snort erupts at my side. “Now you’re just fishing.”
“A little.” I peek back at him and pinch my fingers together.
I expect him to roll his eyes. Instead, he regards me with sincerity.
“Elle. Are you all right?”
I flinch. That peek turns into closing my eyes, then turning my face away again. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I throw it out as casually as a wedding crasher, smiling.
“You always smile,” August says softly. “You don’t always mean it.”
Yikes.
When he throws one down, it’s a heavy hitter.
My smile fades, and my stomach sinks.
I’d started to open my eyes, but now I keep them closed.
“I know,” I say softly. “But I keep smiling until I do. Mean it, that is. Eventually it gets easier, and then it becomes real.”
His voice is a little closer when he speaks.
A little heavier.
