Page 72 of Almost Perfect
She twisted to look behind her, and it clicked. Time to go, or this becomes awkward.
“Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair, give you some privacy. Bathroom’s just to the left in the hallway. I’m at the other end—don’t hesitate.”For anything. Ever.
I shuffled to the door, but she grabbed my hand.
“Thank you for dinner. And the puzzle. And the room.” Then she leaned against me and pressed a slow, delectable kiss to my lips.
The connection sent heat bursting in my gut and rushing through my blood. Unadulterated longing sent my breath from my lungs as I pulled away, knowing any more time touching her would weaken my resolve to be welcoming and put no pressure on her.
I cleared my throat. “See you in the morning.”
Needing a visible reminder that I should not linger or go back and kiss her again, but more, and deeper, I shut the door behind me. To avoid marching right back to her and asking something stupid like if she needed towels, because of course she did and I’d put some in the bathroom in a minute, I made the rounds, checking locks to outside doors, unplugging any other electronics that could get fried in a power surge.
And then I went to my room and closed the door. I debated leaving it open a crack, just in case she needed an invitation. It was a stupid idea—she was leaving, and no matter how much chemistry and companionable time we’d shared, this couldn’t go anywhere.
But if I didn’t leave the door open for possibility, was I falling back into the old trap? Waiting to die instead of choosing to live?
Maybe it was simply that she was new—I hadn’t known her all my life, and I hadn’t had to seek her out on an app. If that was the case, testing this out, letting it unfold, was worth it.
And if it washer, in particular?
I’d have to deal with that when the time came.
* * *
I woke with every small sound, and earlier than usual, but didn’t see Calla during the night. Sadly.
No. It’s for the best.
Yeah, but seeing her would’ve been even better.
I poured water into the coffee maker and silenced my idiotic, fighting internal dialogue. I’d been going back and forth with myself since I gained consciousness at five this morning, and even a brutal bodyweight workout hadn’t worked to silence my mind. With the power out, I didn’t want to tax the generator and use the treadmill, and I wasn’t about to leave Calla to check on the herds.
Plus, that wasn’t my job anyway. I’d hired the best, and I needed to trust them. I could tell Terrence had gotten irritated the last few weeks when I’d visited him daily instead of just my usual once a week. Whether that’d come from the restlessness of not being engaged in things overpowering my good sense, or a subconscious need to put a little space between me and Calla every so often, the result was the same.
After adding grounds to the machine, a job I religiously did the night before and yet had completely forgotten last night, I closed the lid and pressed start. I needed a shower and clothes, and then coffee. After that, I’d visit Sheridan, do some shoveling, and—
Any coherent thoughts fled my mind at the sight of Calla leaning against the doorway between the hallway and the kitchen. She wore slouchy pants and a baggy sweatshirt. Her hair was in a familiar braid snaking over her shoulder. Her face was relaxed, and a soft smile played on her lips.
My heart pulsed a longing ache, and a lifetime of this—seeing her at home in my house, seeing her first thing—flashed in front of my eyes.
“You look like you were having a very intense thought just now,” she said, stepping fully into the kitchen.
I sidestepped to the sink and washed my hands to keep from touching her. I was sweaty and disgusting, or I might not’ve had the will. “How’d you sleep?”
“Got a little chilly, but overall just fine.”
“You should’ve come and told me. I could’ve gotten you another blanket.” I dried my hands and looked up just as she moved to block me from walking by.
“I will next time, if there is one.”
The promise in her words and the intensity of her gaze hit me like a low blow. The dual thought that I hoped there was another chance, and that there might not be a next time, sent me into a weirdly frazzled dance around her.
“Just finished a workout, so I’m going to grab a shower. Coffee should be ready soon. I’ll be right out to get breakfast going.”
Then I bolted, practically jogging down the hallway to my room.
“Take your time!” she hollered, and I could’ve sworn I heard her smile.
