Page 17 of Freak
She sighed softly, and her eyes fluttered open, as if she’d been napping—no, as if she’d been dreaming.
“That was lovely,” she murmured as a tiny smile played over her lips, still shining in the moonlight with the traces of their kiss.
“Yeah, it was. Are we done?”
Again, she considered him for far longer than he’d like. But she didn’t let him go or seem anxious to be let go. So he looked back, enjoyed the sparkle in her blue eyes, and waited.
“For tonight, yes. We’re done.” With that, she let her hands slip back down his arms.
Mel didn’t let go of any part of her yet. “Just for tonight?”
Her gaze sharpened. “Well, I think that’ll take some talkin’ betwixt us.”
He grinned. “You worried about my intentions?”
“Well, yeah, “ she said, deflating his grin. “Though I guess I wouldn’t say worried. ‘Curious’ works better. I think your intentions and mine should be headed in the same direction before we do anything like that again.”
Setting her hands on his chest, she pushed free of his embrace and took a couple steps toward the house. “But it’s too late for all that now, so why don’t you go on home. I got some Tupperwares for you to take ‘long with you.”
As he watched her grab the handle and pull the screen door open, Mel felt like his right-side tires were sunk in mud. Thirty seconds ago his tongue had been mapping the terrain of her mouth, his brain had been conjuring all sorts of possibilities, and now it was all just ... over?
“Abigail!” he called before she crossed the threshold.
She turned back with a bright smile that sent her cheekbones so high they changed the shape of her eyes. God, how he loved that smile.
“Yeah?”
He had no idea what to say. He’d called her name to reclaim something that was already in the past, and now he didn’t know what anything meant. He didn’t even know what he meant by all this. Abigail was no club chick, no easy fuck. She’d want commitment and exclusivity and ... and ... what had she said? They should beheaded in the same directionbefore anything like that happened again.
What direction? What did she want? What didhewant?
He liked his life as it was. Didn’t he?
He’d had his fill of being responsible for another person. Hadn’t he?
Everything he’d been sure of was now a question. But was it a question for this moment alone, or was he truly considering changing everything about his life? When he left the circle of this woman’s witchy home, would he settle back into the comfort of his usual thoughts? Or was this a moment to be preserved at any cost?
In the end, uncertainty and cowardice claimed him, and all he said was, “You sending any of that crumble with me?”
She blinked, and, for half a second, her smile faltered. Then she beamed at him again. “Of course!”
