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“God! No! Not with Cayman!” I shouted.
“Sorry. Go ahead. Finish.”
I huffed. “Notwith Cayman,” I repeated.
“Got it.”
“The point is, I learned my lesson, and I will never cross that line again.”
He nodded and looked out at the horizon. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Obviously, something did.”
“We shagged. He left. End of story.”
12
ARES
Something told me that was not the end of the story. However, as she’d said, the point was she’d crossed the line with a colleague and it was a mistake she’d never allow herself to make again.
Yeah, I wished I’d met her some other way. That weweren’tcolleagues. That what we were about to do wasn’t so important that neither of us could even think of walking away from our assignments. But that was our reality, and no amount of wishing would change it.
There was a chance that weeks, even days, from now, the attraction I felt would diminish, but I doubted it would. From the instant we met, I felt a kind of pull I’d never experienced before. And I wasn’t some hopeless romantic. In fact, most of the women I’d been involved with swore I didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Another time, another place, I’d take her in my arms and kiss her. And unlike the other guy, if we shagged, I wouldn’t leave. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew she’d never get rid of me if that ever did happen.
“I wish you weren’t leaving, but I understand why you need to. I assure you that tomorrow, after you return, I will not reference anything that was said today ever again.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Hang on. There’s one more thing I have to say before I wipe all of this from my memory. Well, actually, two things.”
“I have a feeling I’d rather not hear either.”
I shrugged. “That’s the beauty of forgetting, right?”
“I suppose.” Her head cocked, and her eyes scrunched. I was worrying her, and I didn’t mean to.
“Both are good. I promise.”
She nodded.
“First”—I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and touching her hair—“you are an extraordinarily beautiful woman. And second, if it had been me, I never would’ve left, and it would only have been the beginning of the story.”
I stoodoutside the front door for several minutes after Nem drove away, knowing that when she returned tomorrow, I had to do as promised and set aside the attraction I felt for her. We both had to focus on why we were here. There was ahelluvalot of work to do, and honestly, I had no idea where to begin.
“Everything okay?” Cayman asked, motioning to the place where Nem’s car had been parked.
“She decided to return to London for the night.”
He put his hands in his pockets. “There’s a pub not too far from here, if you’d like to check it out.”
“I would.” I followed him to the car. “We have a fuck of a lot of work to do in the morning,” I muttered after he drove out the gate and in the opposite direction of London.
“A fuck of a lot,” he repeated.
