Page 58 of Alone With You in the Ether

“I want,” he began, his voice fighting its way through the dryness in his throat, and she pulled away a fraction of a degree; only enough so that if he wanted her mouth—if he wanted to match it with his—he could do it. He could find out what secrets she kept in her kiss.

“Yes?”

A thrill of opposition burst from the haze of her closeness.

“Your art,” he said, and felt her stiffen.

“What?”

The tension snapped, striking them both.

“I want to see your art,” he said, and she pulled away, staring at him.

“Aldo,” she said. “You’re kidding me.”

He shook his head. “I’m not.”

“But.” She dragged her tongue over dry lips, mouth tightening. “Aldo, I have a boyfriend.”

“Yes,” he said, “I know.”

“But I’m here. With you.”

“Yes,” he said.

She stared at him.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“I have some idea.”

“Of course you do, you’re a genius.” She sounded bitter about it that time, and though she didn’t move, he could see her tightening inside herself, curling up and shrinking down. “I thought that you—”

“I do,” he said.

“But then—”

“You said I could only have one key,” he said.

She blinked.

“You realize this could be your only chance,” she told him.

“Well, then I don’t want it.”

That information seemed to dizzy her.

“Why not?”

“This isn’t the one I want.”

“This key?”

“This chance.”

“What’s wrong with this chance?”

“Regan.”

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