Page 114 of Melted by a Man

“Why?”

Leo shrugged out of his jacket, “To make sure you feel safe shagging in a stranger’s hotel room.”

I smiled, toeing off my shoes as I shook my head, “I’m free to leave whenever?”

He nodded, “Whenever.”

“Cool,” I stood tall, nerves swarming in my stomach as I drank him in, “…Can you kiss me again?”

* * *

I was leaningagainst my bike, parked outside of Jacqueline’s building. My helmet was in my hands, turning it over and over.

Where did one start with a conversation like this?

I had no idea how to have one of these discussions. My experience was quite limited. The last serious relationship I was in was years ago, and after he dropped the L word way before I was ready, I hadn’t sought a serious relationship again.

But Jacqueline’s moment at work today made me realize…I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. She had to have known where I stood. If she didn’t, perhaps she would understand when I communicated as such.

Jacqueline relied on direct, unmistakable communication. Reading between the lines wasn’t her forte, so if I wanted her to understand everything I was feeling,Ineeded to be the one to tell her.

And whatever her response to that was…I would have to deal with it.

I hoped, though, that I wasn’t alone in this. That it wasn’t just me. That she felt for me what I have been feeling for her for a while now.

A car rumbled next to me, parking before the ignition got cut off.

Turning to see Jacqueline step out of the vehicle, my chest expanded and my heart started to kick up.

Would this be the last time I see her after work?

Jacqueline brushed loose strands of hair behind her ears, her bun keeping the rest off of her neck. She looked nervous as she approached me, her steps tentative as she clutched the strap of her bag.

“…Hi,” she spoke first.

“Hi,” I replied. I reached out to play with the strap of her bag, like I did weeks ago, “How are you doing?”

She lifted a shoulder, “I’m… I don’t know. I just want to start apologizing again.”

When Jacqueline tucked both of her lips between her teeth, I lifted my hand so my index finger pressed on her bottom one, releasing it.

“Don’t,” I shook my head, “Don’t apologize, Jacqueline.”

Jacqueline apologized profusely the first time she kissed me. Anxiety took over, and what I thought was pure rejection ended up just being her struggling with her own emotions. Her attraction for me.

Right now, standing outside of her building, I was hoping that her need to keep apologizing was linked to a similar struggle within her. If Jacqueline was this anxious to admit something as simple as physical attraction, I assumed that she would struggle just as much—if not more—when it came to real, big feelings.

“Want to head up?” I tipped my head toward the front of the building.

“Yes, let’s go.” She lifted her hand and laced our fingers together, leading me in.

We were silent on the walk to her flat, but she kept our fingers laced the entire time. We looked like a real couple; like two people who were just getting off of work and getting ready for a night ofNetflix and Chill. Most nights, we were.

Except today, there was a very high chance that I was about to ruin this dynamic.

Shutting the door behind us and flipping the lock, I watched Jacqueline slip off her sneakers.

Panic started swelling in my chest.

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