Page 85 of Kisses and Paperclips

But her eyes dropped again, softer now.

And I couldn’t let her sit there thinking this was all on her.

“This isn’t all on you,” I added, gentler now. “Last time I checked… I was there too.”

She huffed a breath—almost a laugh.

“And this?” I said, motioning between us, to the silence, the shift in her. “This isn’t the girl who was busting my balls on our first date.”

That got a smile. Small. But real.

“That wasn’t a date,” she said, reaching for her fork like she hadn’t just cracked open in front of me.

The moment stretched, and I watched her. Let the warmth settle again.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

I watched her shoulders, still tight, her fork swirling on the plate, moving around her eggs.

“Look, it was reckless, and. Now that we are able to work out this tension. We can…” She struggled to find the words. “We can move forward without things being complicated.

I watched her; she somehow believed what she was saying.

I took a bite of my food and stared at her.

“I’ll call it whatever you want.”

She nodded like that meant something. Like that was control slipping back into her hands.

“I just want to make sure this doesn’t get messy,” she added. “Especially with Guilty Pleasures.”

Business.

That was her parachute.

Her way out of the feeling still lingering in the air between us.

You know what?” I said, shaking my head, my chair scraping against the floor.

“Maybe I will take you up on that. Keep things clean. Neat. Professional.”

I started for the door.

She didn’t stop me.

But right before I hit the threshold, I turned back. Stepped into her space.

My hands closed around the back of her chair.

The wood groaned under my grip. I turned it toward me, my touch rough and direct.

There was no warning or hesitation.

It was just a need, dressed up as control.

She lifted her chin, eyes steady, like she’d seen this coming before I knew I was turning around.

I dropped to my knees. Right in front of her, her legs between mine. Nowhere for her to go.

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