Page 63 of Almost Perfect
My chest locked up, and my mind shoutedWrong!the second her words hit my ears. Whatever this was with Wyatt, it didn’t feel like a fling. I had no intention of spending time with him and then tossing him away, and that’s what such a word implied to me. It made no sense for me to reject the idea, but I knew that wasn’t what Wyatt wanted.
Or… was it? Had he decided to enjoymewhile I was here the same way Jenna had urged me to do with him?
That thought sank like a stone in my gut. I made a non-committal sound to avoid dead air.
“What does that sound mean?” she asked, and I could just picture her eyes narrowing in on me.
“It just means I’m confused. I’m basically a wreck over here, and I shouldn’t be trying to—”
“Youshouldn’tbe living your life based on shoulds. It’s toxic and you know it.”
Effectively chastised, I tried again. “Fair enough, even if that’s so much easier said than done. I’ll see him at breakfast tomorrow, and I don’t want to be weird.”
“So don’t be.”
“But I’m all mixed up about what’s happening.”
How could I expect either one of us to go back to before—before I knew what his hands on my skin would feel like. Before I knew his kiss felt essential.
“You could always skip it,” she said, her words doing nothing to hide her real opinion of that option.
“Not really. He makes me breakfast every day, and I’m paying for it, so it’d be weird and very sad for my stomach if I did.” It wasn’t an option, anyway. I wouldn’t just disappear.
Especially since, even with the confusion, I couldn’t wait to see him again. It killed me to acknowledge it, I didn’t have all that many breakfasts with Wyatt left.
“Then I guess you go with your big girl panties on.”
I groaned aloud. “Ew. You just had to.”
She cackled. “Of course I did. Now you can be horrified by my use of your least favorite phrase, and anytime you feel weird, just remember if he kissed you like he did, he’s not ambivalent.”
I knew that, at least. Releasing a sigh, I told her good night and snuggled up with a book in bed.
Hours after I’d settled in, I still buzzed with anticipation. Maybe even anxiety, although I couldn’t pin down exactly what made me so anxious.
I wanted to see Wyatt. I wanted to figure out what came next, especially because I had all kinds of ideas and none of them involvednotseeing him. I wanted to ignore the gut-level dread that came fromwantingagain, to banish the sense of impending doom that shadowed me whenever I acknowledged how much I already cared for Wyatt.
But chances were good it was already too late.
TWENTY-SIX
Wyatt
Focused on scrambling eggs, I did not turn to see Warrick let Calla in for breakfast the morning after our date.
The low hum of their voices as they stepped inside sent a thrill through me. Kissing her had sent me off-course. Every excuse I’d made about what I was doing with her had turned to dust when I kissed her last night.
I’d never had that kind of connection with someone. Ever. And I couldn’t pretend I didn’t want to explore it, even if my mind kept feebly waving its skimpy red flag, trying to remind me it was a bad idea. She wasn’t what I said I wanted. She was leaving.
Buthot damn, that kiss.
I could hardly tell which way was up when I released her and made my exit. I’d slipped out of that house like my tail was on fire because if I hadn’t, I would’ve pressed for more. And though we’d had frequent interactions for over a month since she’d arrived, it had been our first date.
I never kissed like that on a first date. A cheek peck, maybe the lips if there’d been great chemistry, but that? The kind of kiss that starts fires and burns down buildings?Not once in my life.
Maybe it felt like this—so vivid and necessary and right—because I’d come to. I’d had my realization and taken off the shades. Maybe I was finally seeing the sun, straight out.
She didn’t make sense for me, no matter how I sliced it. But maybe what I wanted, or what I’d said I wanted for so long, didn’t matter anymore. Not when it came to her.
