“That’s a damn good thing,” Nate said with a smirk.
“Maybe it’s technically a good thing, but it kind of made me feel shitty about myself.”
“Did you want him to be interested in you?”
“No. But I felt completely stupid. Don’t you get that? I went there to tell him that I had feelings for somebody else, but before I could even say that he told me he never even saw me romantically and that he was sorry for leading me on. My God, I was so sure he was interested in me, Nate. I asked you to teach me how to be seductive for him because I was damn certain he was attracted to me. And it turns out I was completely off the mark with that,” she said, shaking her head in frustration. She’d felt like such an ass at Speakeasy with Grant.
“Do you wish you’d never asked me?” he asked in a measured voice.
“No,” she said, her voice rising. “Of course I’m glad I asked you because everything that happened was amazing, but don’t you see how his comments would make me feel?”
He shook his head, looking thoroughly perplexed. “No. Enlighten me.”
“It just made me feel that Scott was right—I’m good at business and bad at relationships. And all I wanted afterwards was to see you and tell you and commiserate with you as a friend. But can we even do that anymore?”
“You tell me,” he said softly. “Can we?”
A lump formed in her throat. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Can I be your lover and your friend? Because the one thing I wanted when it was over was to see you, and then have you tell me he’s a douche, and that I deserve better, and that he and all the other guys in the world can go fuck off,” she said, dropping her voice an octave or two to imitate him.
“He’s an ass, and you deserve better, and all the other guys in the world can go fuck off,” he said, flashing her a brief smile. Then the corner of his lips dropped, and he furrowed his brow. “Wait. Can we back it up a bit? Did you actually say you had feelings for someone else?”
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. Just do it. “You, obviously, Nate. You,” she said and his eyes seemed to light up for a moment. To sparkle. “But what is this? What are we doing? Are we friends? Are we lovers? Can we even be both?”
He ran his fingers through her hair. The gesture threatened to melt her heart once more for him, because now it felt like how he’d touched her that night in London. It felt like the start of something. She tamped down her desire to climb up on him, straddle him and smother him in kisses that led them back into another reckless night. She had to stop reading so much into the way he touched her. Words mattered more.
“Yes. We can be both,” he said, his voice trailing off. She watched him, waiting as he swallowed. He seemed to struggle with words. “But I don’t want to hurt you,” he added in the softest, most tender voice, as if he was terribly frightened by the possibility.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the sting. A lump rose in her throat. He clearly didn’t want her in the same way. Telling him she had feelings for him was as close as she could come to taking a chance with him, and once again her radar had failed her. They weren’t on the same page. He didn’t want more. He wasn’t ready for all she wanted with him. If he felt the same, if he felt any thing for her he wouldn’t say he was afraid of hurting her.
You’re only afraid of hurting people when there’s an uneven distribution of love.
“I understand,” she said, trying to stay strong.
“I care about you too much to hurt you,” he said, each word falling from his lips awkwardly, as if he were trying to explain. But he didn’t have to. His explanation was evident in his eyes—they were so sad. The broken look in them reinforced that she needed to protect her heart. If she were to reveal more about all she felt it would only push him away. If she gave voice to the true depth of her feelings, she might risk losing him as a friend. She had to retreat before she fell any further.
“I don’t want either of us to get hurt,” he said, quickly backpedaling as he sighed heavily. “And I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Our friendship means too much.”
“It means everything,” she said, her voice breaking now, and he reached for her, wrapped her in an embrace and held her as silent sobs fell down his shirt. His arms around her were so comforting, and she would miss terribly the feel of what would have come next—slow, sensual kisses that spread into hot, passionate ones, that turned into moans and sighs and deep desire that ran wild through the night. She longed for that physical connection so deeply, but she would miss even more having him in her life. And if they kept venturing down this rocky, dangerous road, she’d fall further for him, and that would make it impossible to be friends.
She steeled herself for what she knew she had to say. “We can’t lose this,” she began. She had to be the strong one. To make the cut so they could preserve what they’d had.
* * *
He agreed. He completely agreed. He was terrified of losing her from his life, but he wasn’t ready to let her go. He didn’t intend to let Joanna win. He had to tell Casey how he felt. That she was the one for him. That as much as the past had steered all his choices for the last four years, he wanted to move forward into the great unknown with her. He wanted to explore all that they could be. He’d been misfiring with words so far tonight; he had to right this ship. He shoved the past hurts, the past anger, and all that nagging fear under the carpet, took a deep breath, and prepared to tell her he was falling for her. “We can’t lose this,” he said, agreeing with her simply to start this most challenging of conversations. “But we also can’t—”
She pressed her finger to his lips, shushing him. “I know what you’re going to say. We can’t risk losing our friendship. And that’s why I think we should take a break from the sex. Focus on the friendship so we don’t lose sight of what matters.”
The air was ripped from his lungs. He parted his lips to speak, but no words came. The protests were lodged in his throat, and he tried to push them past his lips, but they wouldn’t budge. Shock took root yet again. He hadn’t expected her to say that. But the message had made landfall, and she clearly meant it, so he had to respect it. He nodded and said, “Yes, you’re right.”
She closed her eyes, a pained look on her features. But when she opened them again, she seemed to be forcing a smile to her face. “Friends,” she said, holding out a hand to shake.