Page 396 of The First Time

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He takes my hand. "Not if it's a poor long-term move."

"But that's always it—it's always strategy."

"It's chess."

"But it's always strategy with you." I pull my hand into my lap. "Should we play again?"

"Kat."

"No. You're right. It's just chess."

"Reconsider." He stares into my eyes. "We don't have to rush."

"Yeah, right, as long as I mention it to your mom tomorrow?"

"That's not it."

He reaches for me, but I push his hand away.

I stare back at him. "I'm not marrying someone who doesn't love me."

He says nothing.

"Goodnight, Blake." I push off the table and walk up the stairs without looking at him once.

* * *

The suburbs are quiet.Even at our place way out in Brooklyn, New York City is loud. There are taxis, pedestrians, subways rumbling underground.

Out here, there's nothing. Not even a fan for white noise.

I toss and turn. Sleep isn't happening. I shouldn't have spent the afternoon in a state of near unconsciousness.

There's a soft knock on my door.

I push out of bed and answer.

Blake is standing there in his pajamas. He looks normal. No, he looks hurt. Needy.

"Come to my room," he whispers.

"It's not a good idea."

"Do it anyway." He slides his hand around my waist and pulls me closer. "You shouldn't sleep alone."

"I shouldn't sleep with you."

He presses his lips to mine. "So don't sleep."

Warmth spreads through my body. It's a compelling argument.

But I can't.

I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to his. "I'm sorry. For everything." I take a step backwards.

He nods with understanding.

Still, it breaks my heart closing the door and climbing into bed alone.

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