Page 76 of Dreaming of Dawson

“Well… I think we’ve established we both like each other, so are you willing to consider starting something with me?” Or has it really been so long since I’ve been with a woman that I’ve misinterpreted everything that’s happened here tonight?

“I—I…”

She’s still unsure, but I don’t wanna hear, ‘I can’t’. Not now.

“I get that James hurt you, and that he took everything you had. I also get that it’s probably hard to trust me, given the way I’ve behaved since you’ve known me, but you’ve gotta believe me when I say I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

She stares up at me, and as much as I want to hear her say, ‘Yes’, all I can see is the doubt in her eyes, which cuts through me more than any words ever could.

“It’s getting kinda late,” she says, proving that words still have the power to hurt me, too. She wants to leave? After everything we’ve shared tonight? She wants to go?

She sits forward, proving her point, and I turn and look out the window, surprised to see snowflakes drifting past. Lots of them.

“You can’t drive home in this,” I say. “It’ll be treacherous out there.” She follows the line of my gaze, and then looks at me, only this time, I’m not gonna wait for her to ask. I’m gonna offer. “Do you wanna stay?”

“Stay?”

“Yes. Like last night.”

“In the guest room, you mean?”

I didn’t, as it happens, but it seems that’s the way her mind is going, and I can’t push her for more.

“If that’s what you want,” I say, because I can’t in all honesty answer ‘yes’ to that question.

She stares at me for a moment longer and then nods her head.

I won’t say I’m not disappointed by that, but at least she’s agreed to stay, and I manage a smile as I gather up the cups from the table.

“You’d better send a message to your aunt,” I say, wandering to the kitchen.

“I sent her one earlier, while you were fixing the coffee.”

“Yes, but that was probably just to say you were gonna be late. Not that you weren’t coming back at all.”

“Oh… yes.”

I turn and see the blush on her cheeks as she pulls out her phone and quickly types a message while I stand, waiting for her. When she’s done, she replaces her phone and comes over, looking up at me as I escort her to the guest bedroom, even though she knows the way perfectly well.

“I’m sorry… I’m afraid I didn’t get around to making the bed this morning,” I say, and she shakes her head.

“I should have made it myself before I left.”

“You didn’t have to. Although I noticed what a tidy sleeper you are.”

“Tidy?” she says, a smile tweaking at her lips.

“Yeah. If it hadn’t been for the indent in the pillow, I’d never have known you’d slept here.”

“Can I take it you’re not a tidy sleeper?” she asks, as we approach the door, which is still ajar, as I left it earlier.

“Not in the slightest. The bed usually looks like an earthquake hit it when I get out.”

Her smile fills out, and as she pushes the door open, I grab her hand, holding it in mine.

She gasps, just like she did before, and I gaze down into her upturned face.

“If you can’t forget your prejudices, can you just ignore the fact that I’m your boss?”

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