Page 32 of Sweet Escape

It’s meant as a joke, but inwardly I cringe.

Next time?

Where did that come from?

This was a one-time thing, a release that we both needed.

There will be no next time. I barely had time forthis.

But I don’t like that thought, either.

Vivian redresses, hopefully oblivious to what’s going on in my mind. Only a minute or two passes before we’re both fully clothed again, looking not much worse for the wear.

“Where are we, exactly?” she asks, as she sits on the little couch and slips on her heeled boot.

“Just a break room. It doesn’t get used a lot.”

“And you know this ... how?”

I grin but don’t say anything, crossing my arms instead.

Vivian watches me with a playful expression. “Memphis! Have I been added to your break room notch count?”

I purse my lips and huff out a breath. “I am not touchingthatquestion with a ten-foot pole.”

There have only been two other women I’ve brought back here over the years, but it feels like the kind of information that will get me in trouble, regardless of what the number is.

“Well, thanks for that.” She’s putting her hair up into a messy bun as she says it, and I can’t help wishing she’d have left it down and wild so everyone would see just how mussed I made her. “You took the whole ‘splitting me in half’ thing seriously, and I commend the effort.”

I blink twice, then can’t help when I tumble into a bit of laughter, her casual attitude throwing me off guard.

“You are ... ridiculous,” I finally say. “And same to you. Thanks for the good time.”

She giggles as she looks at her reflection in a mirror on the wall, swiping at her smudged mascara. Then she looks at me and smiles, and something inside my chest thuds. Hard.

I clear my throat, ignoring it, and turn to tug the door open. Both of us walk out into the hallway and back into the main bar.

My friends are still at the pool table, and I consider rejoining them for a brief second before deciding that it’s probably time to head home.

“Do you need a ride?” I ask Vivian as we both make our way out the front door and on to Main Street. The late-summer air is damp and cool, and this late on a Sunday evening, nobody is really out in town anymore.

“Nah, I’m down at the Firehouse,” she says, hitching her thumb down the street toward where the bed-and-breakfast sits at the very end.

“That’s right. Well ... Have a good night, then.”

She surprises me, stepping forward and slipping her hand behind my neck. Then tugging me down and bringing our mouths together.

I don’t hesitate. I let myself enjoy the kiss and the way it feels to slip my arms around her waist and pull her against my body.

It’s easy. Natural.

Like breathing. Like blinking. Like falling asleep.

It’s also too short, and when Vivian pulls back, her eyes slightly hooded like she could go for another round, I find myself wishing that she would invite me back to her hotel. Wishing that we were already in her room so we could roll over and go again in the middle of the night.

The realization is unwanted. I take a step away from her, turning my head to look up and down the street as something unfamiliar begins to bubble underneath my skin.

“Look, Vivian,” I start, not even knowing exactly what I want to say, but still certain that I need to say ... something.

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