Page 82 of Not the Plan

“No, it’s okay.” She broke his train of thought, flashing him an attempt at a smile. “I’d feel I was burdening you.”

He stepped closer to her desk and lowered his voice.

“Little Kite?”

Her eyebrows came together, and she wiped fast at another tear.

“I would like to help if I can,” he said.

She didn’t move.

“Pizza?” he asked.

She was still wavering.

“I promise, just pizza. Pizza and beer. We both have an early start tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said. “Just pizza and beer. Seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Isadora

Her breakfast dishes werestillin the sink.

Shit, shit, shit!Her purse thudded to the floor, missing its hook. She nipped the dirty pajama top and yoga pants off the back of the couch and flew with them to the hamper. It was already overflowing, she had to jam everything in.Why did I say seven? I should have said seven thirty. I should have gotten out of the office on time!

She grabbed the Windex and paper towels, cleaning the bathroom in less than three minutes. The doorbell rang once she was back in the kitchen, rinsing the last dish. She’d taken two calming breaths and put her hand on the doorknob when she felt moisture on her stomach. A glance down revealed a dollop of soapy water on her blouse.Of course.

“Hi,” she said, opening the door. He smiled and kissed her on the cheek as he walked in, hands full. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess in here. I—”

“Don’t apologize for anything. You’re here. You’re beautiful. I’m in heaven,” he said. He put the pizza down in the kitchen and came back into the living room, putting two bottles of beer on the coffee table. She tried to smile, still bothered about not being ready.

“Can I really kiss you?” he asked.

“Of co—” He cut her off, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips to hers. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and she relaxed, opening her mouth to his. He threaded a hand intoher hair, fingers spread wide across her scalp. Her sigh tumbled into his mouth as he massaged her. He kissed her so lovingly that all her stress and worry disappeared. All she wanted was to kiss him back, relax into the feeling of his body against hers, drown in his smell. He broke the kiss but continued holding her close against him.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi.”

“I missed you.”

“Mmm, but you saw me at work today,” she breathed, eyes still closed.

“Not like this. Not the way I want to every time I look at you.”

“Ah…Then maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She let her internal tug of war show. He tried to keep her close, and she did want to stay. But the habit of standing on her own pulled her out of his arms.

“I appreciate what you said this afternoon,” she said. “I was upset, and it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it, but the last thing I want is to ruin this. I am enjoying you. Very, very much. You’re like a wonderfully delicious playground I want to explore and explore.” She hoped that if she voiced the idea that this was nothing more than casual sex, it might stay that way. She’d even put the couch between them, walking around to the back of it.

She didn’t let her gaze stray from his. The scared little girl inside wanted to hide. She didn’t want another person to sum her up again and decide that she wasn’t enough. But there was a tiny spark—a spark of hope that this man in front of her already thought that she was enough. A ragged breath pulled itself in.

“Please tell me,” he said. “I want to understand.”