Page 6 of Cohen

Our fingers entwine and neither of us tries to pull away as we walk to my front porch together. We stop in front of my door and he turns to face me. “There really is something special about you, Delilah. I hope you believe me when I say that. And as much as I’d like to keep this date going, I’ll stop here and say good night.”

There’s an unmistakable heat in his dark eyes as his gaze drops to my lips, and I can feel a thousand butterflies fluttering in my stomach at once.

I open my mouth to say something—anything, as long as it will fill the silence that’s starting to stretch out between us—but I’m too breathless to speak. Then all of those butterflies start doing back flips as he leans in and his lips brush against mine.

God, it feels so good. So right.

My body is responding as he puts his arms around me and draws me in closer. I want this. I want more of this, and I can tell by the way his kisses are becoming more heated and urgent that he wants more, too.

I reach for the doorknob, then stop myself. There’s still no doubt in my mind that I want this—want him to come inside with me and stay with me all night—but then what happens next? What happens tomorrow when I have to see him come into the library to finish his research? Or worse, what happens if I don’t see him at all?

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he watches me.

“Yes—I mean, no.” I shake my head and take a step away from him as I push the door open. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

I can see the confusion on his face, and I don’t blame him. I know I’m sending mixed signals right now, but I need a minute to think and I can’t do that if I’m kissing him. There’s no way I can do anything but say yes when I’m in his arms and I want to make sure this is something that’s going to last beyond tonight before I give in to what my body wants.

“Okay,” he nods, letting his arms fall away from me. “Did I… I’m sorry if I did something wrong or upset you somehow. That wasn’t what I—”

“No, it isn’t anything you’ve done,” I say, hoping he’ll believe me. “You’ve been so wonderful all night and I—I just need a minute. I need to be sure about… about everything.”

It isn’t the greatest excuse, but it’s the truth and I hope and pray he’ll understand. I want to be with him, to sleep with him and do everything that he wants to do.

I just have to know, for my own peace of mind, that we’ll both feel the same way in the morning.

And even though I know I’m right for hitting the brakes and listening to my own instincts, being right isn’t much consolation when I have to watch him walk away.

5

COHEN

I shouldn’t have kissed her.

Not because I didn’t want to—fuck, I’ve wanted it more than anything ever since I first laid eyes on her. But I should have used my head.

“Dammit,” I thump my hand against the steering wheel, pissed off at myself for not thinking this through a little better. She’s a small town librarian who doesn’t go on many dates. Of course she wouldn’t want to rush things on a first date with a guy she’s just met.

What the hell was I thinking?

I was thinking that she’s perfect and that I couldn’t wait to be with her in every sense of the word. I should have waited, though. I should have exercised some self-control and done a better job of checking in with her, making sure she was okay before we took things further.

For a moment, I’m tempted to get back out of my car, walk up to her door, and apologize. But no. She asked for space and time to think, and going back to her door now, even just to talk, would only complicate things.

So even though it’s killing me that such a great night ended on such a bad note, I drive away knowing I’m doing the right thing. I’ll still apologize when I see her again, of course, but the last thing I want to do after rushing her into a kiss tonight is rush her into talking about it before she’s ready.

I’ll give her the space and time she needs. I just hope I haven’t fucked things up too badly, because I don’t think I’ll ever meet another woman like her again.

* * *

I’m tired. It’s been a day—well, half a day—since I’ve seen Delilah and I’ve already had to remind myself at least a dozen times that I can’t just go running across the street to plead my case before she’s ready.

But maybe she is ready? How will I know? What if she’s actually waiting for me to come over and apologize?

I stand up from my desk chair and shove a hand back through my hair. I’m normally pretty good at picking up on unspoken signals and body language—it’s part of my job as an attorney, after all. But with dating? I swear, sometimes it’s still a fucking mystery to me.

It’s this part—not knowing how she feels or what she’s thinking—that’s killing me right now, but there’s no good way to find out.

Well, that’s not exactly true. Thereisone good way.

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