Page 57 of Hold You Close
“Oh.” She blinks a couple times. “Well, good. Thank you. That makes my life a lot easier.”
Damn, I feel like a god. “Great.”
“But it’s more than the travel thing.”
“Okay.”
Her eyes drop to the coffee cup, which she takes in her hands without lifting from the counter. “What did you mean when you said I was running away?”
Oh, fuck. I did say that, didn’t I? “Uh . . . I’m not sure what I meant.”
She looks up at me. “Can we please be honest with each other for once? No games?”
I swallow hard. Then I nod. “Okay. I said that because I thought what we did last night scared you, and you wanted to run away rather than admit it.”
“Is that why you made me take off my clothes when I got here? Because you thought I’d run away again?”
I hesitated. “Honestly? No. I just wanted to see you naked again.”
She rolls her eyes. “I knew it.”
“But I am curious. Did last night scare you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” She stares down at the coffee again.
“Come on, you have to be honest now, too.”
“Because you scare me, Ian. I have—conflicting feelings about you. I always have.”
“Well, you’ll be glad to know we’re in the same boat.” I turn to reach for my coffee. When I face her again, she’s staring at me, wide-eyed.
“You have feelings?”
I slay her with a look. “Hey. We’re having a nice talk. Don’t ruin it.”
She holds up both hands. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant, you havefeelingsfeelings for me? Because that’s what I have for you. At least sometimes.”
“Yes, London. I havefeelingsfeelings for you. Sometimes. When you’re not calling me names or ordering me around.” I sip my coffee as if this is a casual conversation and I’m totally calm, but my stomach is in knots. Talking this way, being so candid with her, is really fucking strange. But I like it, sort of. At least, I like the way it’s got her so off guard. She looks like she doesn’t even know what to do with herself.
“Wow. I’m . . . I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Then I guess you’re not expecting me to ask you on a date, either.”
Her jaw drops. “A date?”
“Yes, a date. You know—a boy-girl, drive-in movie, steam-up-the-windows kind of thing.” The date idea came out of nowhere, but now I’m into it.
Eyes closed, she shakes her head as if to clear it from confusion. “Am I in the right house?”
I grin at her and take another sip of coffee. “How about one day next week when you get back from your trip?”
“Ian, why do you want to take me on a date? It’s not that I don’t want to go, it’s just that I want to make sure I understand what this is.”
“What do you think it is?”
