Page 80 of Pucked Up Plans
I don’t want to be the one to make her any sort of unhappy.
As calmly as I can, I repeat my question. “We can’t what?”
“Get involved.”
“Involved with what?” My voice sounds naïve, but I truly have no clue what she’s going on about.
“Be together.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Why, Tate? Because I know you feel this…this connection, this pull. I may not be in tune with all my emotions, but there’s more here than merely a friendship because our kids are friends. It’s not one-sided.”
Right? Did I make this out to be more than it was? Did I receive mixed signals? Wasn’t it her that said something about feeling special today? How did I screw this up?
“That’s the problem.”
I swear, I’ll never understand the female mind. But fuck if I’m giving up now. Fuck if I’m givingherup. Not when wehaven’t had a chance to fully explore what’s between us. Because there is something here, goddamn it. And if I have to prove it to her, I will. No matter how long it takes, nor how long I have to wait to get her into bed.
The thought makes me cringe. While I pride myself on trying not to be selfish, never getting to experience sex with Tate doesn’t fly in my book. Not with the way she has me all tangled up inside. How with just the thought of her, my emotions can’t be measured. Yeah, no. Not happening. At least without some sort of conversation.
“Can we talk?” Her head shakes in response. I plow on, not giving up. “Please. I get it’s scary, but please don’t slam the door on whatever this is without a conversation,” I implore. “If you still feel the same way, I promise I’ll leave and won’t pursue anything beyond a friendship for our kids.”
“Oh, crap.” Another mixed message from her. The words themselves aren’t significant, but the way the sentiment comes across is. Like she didn’t consider the fact Aubrey and Lennon are friends. We’d still be in her life.
Using this small unforeseen opening, I slip her hand into mine, leading her to the couch. It pains me to put distance between us, to be separated by a cushion, but it’s what she needs.
“Talk, Tate.” She doesn’t visibly react to my gentle demand. I chalk it up as a good sign.
Sucking in some air, her eyes flutter closed, opening only as she roughly exhales.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. I could be off base with her implication, but I supply, “I didn’t expect it either.” If there’s one thing I am, it’s truthful. She deserves every ounce of honesty I can give her, even if it makes me more vulnerable.
Her lack of surprise doesn’t shock me. At least we’re on the same page. Hopefully, that will continue.
“I have to think of Aubrey.” Again, no further explanation. This time, though, I nod, encouraging her to continue. “I can’t let her get too attached.”
She stumbles on the word “her.” And while she has to consider Aubrey,Tate’sthe one who can’t get too attached, I guess based on her tone of voice.
“I don’t have a crystal ball to consult where this ends up. Hell, if I did, I’d at least know when we could have sex.” I wince at the way my comment will be perceived. I didn’t mean to bring it up during this conversation. I can’t push her into anything she’s not comfortable with.
The faintest smile cracks through the otherwise solemn façade. “It’s probably for the best we never took the relationship that far. At least now I won’t want what I can’t have.”
“That makes no sort of sense. Won’t you be wondering what it would have been like? Regretting the fact you never took me for a ride?” I physically slap myself for being so crude. For phrasing things so impolitely. As my fingers touch the bandage, I groan at the excruciating pain.
“A ‘minor battle wound,’ my ass.” Her tone affects me the most. Coupled with her use of ass, a fire ignites within me, one I don’t want snuffed out.
“You’re the only person in my life who truly gets me on such a deep level. That has to mean something.”
Her eyes scan my face, lingering longest on the bandage. Even in the dim light of the room, specks of brown twinkle in her eyes. An unspoken agreement of silence shrouds us. It’s only uncomfortable because the outcome is unknown.
She finally breaks the silence. “It’s not one-sided. And I am scared. Terrified, actually.”
Her truths propel me into action. I inch closer. “Matters of the heart always are. With no guarantees.”
