Page 150 of Holding On To Good

But her courage only went so far. Enough to tell him she liked him. That she wanted his kiss.

But not enough to take the kiss for herself.

If she did, he wouldn’t stop her.

Wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

“I don’t want this,” he told her, quiet and gruff. “Not your kiss. Not your time or attention. I don’t want any of it.”

I don’t want you.

He didn’t want her in his head, filling his mind with things he could never have. Didn’t want her looking at him in that calm, steady, peeling-back-every-last-layer-of-defense-he-had-and-peering-into-his-soul way. Didn’t want how she made him feel. Restless. Edgy.

Scared shitless.

“We could at least try,” she insisted, her hand still on his chest and he hated that she could feel the hammering of his heart. That she saw right through him. Hated even more the way she smiled at him, sweet and vulnerable and hopeful. “I mean, I know what I said about the impending heartbreak and all, but I think it might be worth the effort and the cost of a few therapy sessions. I think…” She stopped. Licked her lips, then swallowed. “I think you might be worth the risk. I am,” she added softly. “I promise you, I am.”

He wasn’t. And he couldn’t let her be.

“You’re not worth it,” he said flat and final. “Not to me.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. His rejection. When it did, she went white and jerked her hands off him and finally stepped back. He hardened his heart against how embarrassed she looked. How fucking wrecked.

She’d get over it.

They both would.

He stood there as she once again turned and walked away from him, like she’d done just a few minutes ago, like she did two weeks ago when she’d started all this by showing up at his place.

This time, he let her go.

For good.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Looks like someone got lucky last night,” Hayden said to Willow in a soft, singsong undertone early Sunday afternoon as they filled their plates at Valley View’s well-stocked brunch buffet.

Willow whirled around so quickly, her waffle almost went flying.

And she needed that waffle. Today, she needed all the waffles.

Plus, a pancake or two.

She darted her gaze around the country club’s dining room. It was packed, tables filled with chatting people, the sound of laughter and conversation and clanging silverware echoing in the air. Waitstaff removed empty plates and refilled water glasses, poured coffee and, most importantly, doled out mimosas and Bloody Marys.

Luckily, her parents were still safely ensconced at their table in the corner along with Lily. Far, far away from the buffet line and Hayden’s eerily correct statement.

Righting her plate as she sidestepped down the line, Willow leaned closer to Hayden. “Is it really that obvious?” she whispered.

Did post coitus glow hang around twelve hours after the actual coitus?

Seemed excessive.

Though, honestly, the way Urban had made her feel last night, she was surprised she wasn’t floating two inches off the ground, smiling dreamily and humming “Hallelujah.”

“Only to me,” Hayden assured her. “I have the ability to tell when someone has recently had sex just by looking at them.” She shrugged and helped herself to three strips of bacon. “It’s a gift. One of many I possess.”

It wasn’t Hayden’s dry tone that tipped Willow off that her friend was messing with her. It was the you-are-so-freaking-gullible glint in her eyes.

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