Page 31 of 28 Dates

“Oh. Shoot.” I scamper to my feet and pick everything up, holding the stack of pens and paper to my chest like a protective vest. Which is stupid. What am I protecting? My heart from him? Or him for getting screwed up by me? That’s not even a possibility. He’s already moved on. I slide through the papers and pull out the ones we’ve worked on, setting them on the table. “I’m going to put this away.”

Like the coward I am, I hurry to my office and take a few deep breaths to get myself under control.

This is madness. Everything I’m feeling for him. Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve had sex. Six months is a long time to only have a battery-operated device taking care of my needs.

That’s it. That’s most definitely the problem.

With another harsh exhale that I feel down to my stomach, I head back out to my living room. I can be normal. I can do this friends thing. It’s what I wanted anyway, and above all, Jonas is an excellent friend.

When I reach the room though, all my common sense flees. He’s in the kitchen, rinsing out the wineglasses, and the papers I left on the table are gone.

“I should get going,” he calls out. His back is to me at the sink and he’s already put on his chocolate brown jacket. “It’s getting late and I know you work in the morning.”

Oh. I check the clock above my fireplace and cringe. It’s almost midnight. Has he really been here for hours? Wow.

“Right, of course.” I head toward my door, meeting him there. The papers aren’t in his hands, either, and disappointment flutters through me until he pats his chest, like he knows what I’m thinking.

“I’ve got the plans though and I have to tell you, I feel like I kind of failed tonight.”

“Failed?” Huh?

“Well, I came over to see how you were after today, and we spent the whole time talking about me.”

“I don’t mind. I liked it and trust me, it took my mind off the day, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Caitlin.” He steps closer into my personal space. My head tilts back to meet his eyes, and I swear, for a second, I see that desire he used to have for me swirling in his rich, chocolate eyes. “Anytime you need me, I’m here. You know that, right?”

I need him now. The area between my thighs is throbbing with need for him, and my fingers itch to pull him close to me, grab his coat, and yank him until his mouth slams down onto mine.

And why can’t we? We’re both single. Except I’m not supposed to even know that. Ugh. What a mess.

“I know, Jonas. Thanks for coming by.” I force my mouth to smile but it feels wrong. “It was good hanging out with you.”

“You too.”

He steps closer again, and his head tilts. To kiss me? I wish. I really, really do. My breath catches. My body shivers as his hand lands on my shoulder. He curves it over and squeezes, and I consider shifting, pressing my lips to his, but at the last second, I’m too damn chickenshit.

His lips brush against my temple and that hand squeezes on my shoulder before he steps back, sliding his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “Good night.”

He turns and opens the door, nodding at me as he steps into the hallway. My libido demands for me to call out to him, to throw myself at him. My common sense whispers it’s a bad idea. It will only lead to rejection, because that’s exactly what he’s done.

With that brief kiss and hand squeeze, he’s permanently etched me into the friend zone.

Which is what I wanted all those months ago, so it really is my own damn fault. I close and lock the door behind him, pressing my back to the door. And for the first time since I can remember, tears gather in my eyes and fall down my cheeks.

God, I’ve royally screwed this up something fierce.

Chapter 12

Caitlin

Logan:I’d like to meet you. Drinks tomorrow night?

The phone heats my hand, and I toss it to the couch. Wiping my palms down my thighs, I shove my head back into the couch. This Logan guy isnice.Like, super nice. He’s texted me photos of him hiking mountains in Utah, and exploring the Grand Canyon, partying it up with his friends in Vegas. He plays in a men’s lacrosse team in a city park on weekends. Three sisters, parents still happily married.

He’s the nicest, most all-American guy I’ve spoken to yet on this stupid app that’s driving me crazy. Not because I’ve met any other creep. It’s this guy and one other, the mysterious one who randomly messages me funny facts like “Did you know in Michigan it’s legal to hunt for unicorns?” who I feel most pulled to.

Those always make me laugh even if I still have little knowledge of who he is.

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