joy there. “I should probably go.”
Her stomach sank. It was barely ten o’clock, and she’d been hoping he’d stay with her. That he’d sleep in her bed. “So soon?”
His expression told her everything.
This was it.
“Dad wants to leave early and…” He trailed off, sitting up and not quite meeting her eyes either.
“But—” Her resolve faltered, and she pulled her hand back. She forced herself to keep talking, though. “I was hoping we’d have time. To talk.”
Panic skittered across his face, but he hid it with a smile. He stood and moved to the corner of her room, turning away from her as he got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up. “About?”
Even as she ogled his backside, she pulled the sheet up to cover her hips. She curled in on herself, shivering with a sudden chill.
“Just…you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I am.” He finally faced her again. He sat down on the edge of her bed and reached out, peeling her hand from her shin and holding it in his.
“I didn’t—” She looked down and took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect more than a hookup when I picked you up in that bar. But this week, it’s been amazing.”
“Yeah, it has.” There was something searching in his eyes. Some unspoken question. Some plea. But he let her speak.
She wanted to fold in on herself further, to let her voice get small or trail off entirely. But she shook it off, reminding herself that that was the old her. Sitting up straighter, she finally met his gaze. “I don’t want to lose this.”
He reached out and touched her face. “I don’t want to either.”
She took a deep swallow. “But there are things you don’t know about me.”
“And there are things you don’t know about me.”
His words surprised her, and yet at the same time, they resonated. There had been those strange, uncomfortable moments when he’d pulled away or deflected. The uncomfortable looks at dinner the previous night.
She pulled in a full breath and held on to it for a second. “Josh, I—”
“Not tonight.” His finger was on her lips, his eyes imploring.
“But—”
“I’m not saying never. Just…not tonight.”
She pushed his hand away and sat up straighter, putting inches of distance between them. “Then when? Like we just said, you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“But I’ll be back.” He reached for her again, and reluctantly, she let him intertwine their fingers.
“When?”
“I can’t say exactly. But soon.” His voice was hesitant, that tone he took whenever he seemed to be thinking too carefully about what he was saying. She didn’t like it, but considering how often she did the same thing to him… He lifted her hand and kissed each of her knuckles. “You have my phone number.” He paused, opening his mouth as if about to speak, but then swallowed the words before restarting. “And we’ll find other ways to keep in touch.”
“You promise.”
“I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. As he pulled away, he pressed his fingers to her lips again.
It felt like he was pushing her confession back in.
His mouth turned up into a sad, tender smile, but his eyes had hope in them. Speaking just above a whisper, he said, “There’s plenty of time.”
It didn’t make any sense. But after everything—after the way he’d touched her, and in spite of all she hadn’t said and didn’t know—she trusted him.
“Okay.”
He kissed her once more, softly on the lips, before rising and reaching for his clothes. She watched him as he covered himself. She stood and pulled on a robe, too.
And maybe it was for the best. Their week would be what it was, untainted by memories of everything they still had to say. Maybe distance would be better for getting those things out anyway. And if he didn’t want to keep in touch…well, then their week would be preserved forever, perfect in her memory, but for that faintest shadow of regret.
When he was dressed, he smiled and took her hand
Her stomach sank. It was barely ten o’clock, and she’d been hoping he’d stay with her. That he’d sleep in her bed. “So soon?”
His expression told her everything.
This was it.
“Dad wants to leave early and…” He trailed off, sitting up and not quite meeting her eyes either.
“But—” Her resolve faltered, and she pulled her hand back. She forced herself to keep talking, though. “I was hoping we’d have time. To talk.”
Panic skittered across his face, but he hid it with a smile. He stood and moved to the corner of her room, turning away from her as he got rid of the condom and cleaned himself up. “About?”
Even as she ogled his backside, she pulled the sheet up to cover her hips. She curled in on herself, shivering with a sudden chill.
“Just…you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I am.” He finally faced her again. He sat down on the edge of her bed and reached out, peeling her hand from her shin and holding it in his.
“I didn’t—” She looked down and took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect more than a hookup when I picked you up in that bar. But this week, it’s been amazing.”
“Yeah, it has.” There was something searching in his eyes. Some unspoken question. Some plea. But he let her speak.
She wanted to fold in on herself further, to let her voice get small or trail off entirely. But she shook it off, reminding herself that that was the old her. Sitting up straighter, she finally met his gaze. “I don’t want to lose this.”
He reached out and touched her face. “I don’t want to either.”
She took a deep swallow. “But there are things you don’t know about me.”
“And there are things you don’t know about me.”
His words surprised her, and yet at the same time, they resonated. There had been those strange, uncomfortable moments when he’d pulled away or deflected. The uncomfortable looks at dinner the previous night.
She pulled in a full breath and held on to it for a second. “Josh, I—”
“Not tonight.” His finger was on her lips, his eyes imploring.
“But—”
“I’m not saying never. Just…not tonight.”
She pushed his hand away and sat up straighter, putting inches of distance between them. “Then when? Like we just said, you’re leaving tomorrow.”
“But I’ll be back.” He reached for her again, and reluctantly, she let him intertwine their fingers.
“When?”
“I can’t say exactly. But soon.” His voice was hesitant, that tone he took whenever he seemed to be thinking too carefully about what he was saying. She didn’t like it, but considering how often she did the same thing to him… He lifted her hand and kissed each of her knuckles. “You have my phone number.” He paused, opening his mouth as if about to speak, but then swallowed the words before restarting. “And we’ll find other ways to keep in touch.”
“You promise.”
“I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. As he pulled away, he pressed his fingers to her lips again.
It felt like he was pushing her confession back in.
His mouth turned up into a sad, tender smile, but his eyes had hope in them. Speaking just above a whisper, he said, “There’s plenty of time.”
It didn’t make any sense. But after everything—after the way he’d touched her, and in spite of all she hadn’t said and didn’t know—she trusted him.
“Okay.”
He kissed her once more, softly on the lips, before rising and reaching for his clothes. She watched him as he covered himself. She stood and pulled on a robe, too.
And maybe it was for the best. Their week would be what it was, untainted by memories of everything they still had to say. Maybe distance would be better for getting those things out anyway. And if he didn’t want to keep in touch…well, then their week would be preserved forever, perfect in her memory, but for that faintest shadow of regret.
When he was dressed, he smiled and took her hand
Similar Books
