Page 60 of Let It Breathe
Clay gave a small nod. “We’ve got several more days of clearing and grading, but we can’t stall too long.”
She gritted her teeth. “We should know something by then.”
“Okay, then. I’ll get back to work.”
Reese nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She picked up her letter opener. Clay watched for a moment as she rolled it between her palms.
“You’ve done that for as long as I’ve known you,” Clay said.
“Done what?”
“Fidgeted with something when you’re uncomfortable. Rolled it around between your palms like that. It always used to be a pen—back when we were in college, I mean. The letter opener is a change.”
Reese stared at him for a second, then set the letter opener down. “So moving from the pen to the letter opener is a sign that I’m growing and maturing?”
Clay raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Reese shook her head. “Nothing. Just seems like I’ve been hearing a lot lately about how I haven’t changed.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She shrugged. “Being stagnant isn’t a good thing, is it?”
“I wouldn’t say stagnant. Just consistent. Consistently charming.”
“Or lacking growth and maturity, one or the other.”
“Growth and maturity aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” He gave her a wobbly smile. “Neither is change. Take it from a guy who’s had to do a whole lot of that.”
She shot him a look that was somewhere between sympathy and uncertainty, and Clay felt his chest tighten. He kicked himself for driving the conversation down a dark path and tried to think of a good way to steer them back on course.
“For what it’s worth, I think your rolling habit is endearing.”
“Thanks. I think.” She stayed quiet a moment before picking up the letter opener again, this time rolling it more slowly in her palms. “You know, the old Clay would have made a dirty joke about my palm-rolling habit being a sign of my fixation with hand jobs.”
Clay gripped the clipboard tighter, willing himself to keep breathing so he wouldn’t pass out or lunge across the desk to kiss her. He honestly wasn’t sure which would be worse.
“I wasn’t aware you had that fixation,” he replied evenly.
Reese laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I guess I just meant that’s one of the ways you’ve changed—you no longer seize every opportunity to make dirty jokes.”
“Pretty sure that is a sign of growth and maturity.”
“Mmhmm,” Reese said.
Clay sat still for a few more seconds. There was something on her mind. Was it the kiss at Vineyard Grill the other night? That had been dumb. Really dumb. Talk about a stupid risk. With only a handful of friendships left, should he really be jeopardizing the two most important ones in his life?
Or maybe Reese wasn’t thinking about that at all. Maybe it was the other thing. The issue they’d been avoiding.
“Thanks for last night,” Reese blurted. “For not drinking during the whole I’ve never slept with anyone in this room round.”
Clay swallowed hard, not sure what to say now that the words were out there on the table. “It seemed like the respectful thing to do, under the circumstances.”
She laughed. “Like things weren’t awkward enough last night.”
“Exactly.”
She nodded. “Right. It was. Look?—”
