Page 21 of Imagine Me and You

“I knew you...liked it,” he said. “But I felt like I must have taken advantage of you and...”

“No. I felt like I jumped you. But it looks like we both sort of feel like the sexual predator and neither of us feel...preyed upon, so that’s...good. And now we can move on. Hopefully we’re both a little less...hair trigger now.”

He laughed because the alternative was to say:no, no I’m not, if you touched me right now I’d come on contact.

“I know we avoid talking about this stuff, but it’s been...a while for me. Since before the bakery. Since David...so...a long time.”

“Right,” he said, not sure he liked the explaining-it-away thing she was doing. But what was the other option? There wasn’t one. Not really. The other option was to say itmeant something. But...he didn’t think he could have it mean something. He was sure she didn’t want it to mean anything.

Burning attraction to your best friend only worked if you were also hopelessly in love with them. Which he was not.

And she definitely wasn’t.

They were just, apparently, mutually hot for each other and in a mutual dry spell. So that explained things. That was the perk of explaining things away, he guessed.

“It’s been a while for me too.” Not that long, but a few months...like...eight now that he thought about it, which was actually a very long time.

“So see? There. Glad we talked.” She patted his arm, then drew back quickly. “This was good. Now we can...be normal.”

“As normal as we are.”

“Yeah, well, normal for us. It will be enough.” She smiled, but the smile still rang false. He smiled back, and he knew his was fake. “I’ll make dinner.”

“Seriously, you don’t have to.”

“Hey, I want to. I like this. I like being here with you.”

The silence stretched between them, not really awkward but full. Of desire on his end, questions. A deep ache that he couldn’t quite define. He wanted more. He wanted something else. Right in that moment he felt like he might want it all.

But there was a reason he was thirty and not anywhere close to being married. He liked his control too much. He liked his space the way he liked it too much.

It wouldn’t make any sense to pursue something more with Sam. Not when it would ruin what they had. Because it would ruin it. Because he would go nuts about Poppy’s fur. Because he didn’t know how to live with someone. He didn’t know how to share his space.

And then he would be left with the burned-out remains of the most important relationship he’d ever had. All because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

No. The longing and aching were just going to have to keep on longing and aching. Because he wasn’t acting on it.

He and Sam were going back to normal.

“I’m going to go wash up then,” he said. “Thank you.”

She looked at him, the expression in her eyes unreadable. “You’re welcome.”

“Movie and popcorn after dinner?”

“Sure. As long as it doesn’t star Bruce Willis.”

“I’ll let you pick.”

“Then we have a deal. And I brought movies with me, so don’t think you’re getting off easy.”

Interesting choice of words. And he’d learned yesterday that where Sam was concerned, there really was nogettingoffeasy. Well, it was easy to get off. It was the after stuff that was hard.

But it was an important lesson learned.

“Great. I’ll be down in a few.”

“Great.”

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