Page 85 of Second Time Around
Chapter 15
Light pulsed against Kyra’s eyelids and she tried to yank the covers over her head, but some weight was pinning them down. A big warm body beside her. Will. For a moment her lips curved in a smile but as sleep withdrew its comforting veil, memory surged in a flash of misery.
Her muscles actually twitched in protest as she realized this was the last time she would lie in bed with Will’s arm thrown over her waist, his palm grazing her breast, ready to cup it persuasively when he woke up.
She couldn’t see a clock but the sun was strong, so it must be midmorning.
Not surprising since they’d gone to sleep late. Then sometime in the middle of the night, one of them had awakened the other—she couldn’t really remember who. They’d made love so slowly and sensually that it seemed they had all the time in the world. Really, though, it was a long, wistful farewell, as though they were trying to memorize every contour of each other’s bodies for when they were apart.
She’d thought maybe they would lose themselves in each other one more time in a pale dawn glow, but exhaustion had clearly overpowered them. Somehow the bright glare of full daytime made her feel it was past time to go.
Will’s arm was still relaxed in sleep, so she lay there, torn between wanting to get their parting over with and not wanting to give up the feel of his body wound around hers. Suddenly, silent tears flowed downher cheeks. She had to hold her breath to keep from sobbing. This was not how she wanted to say good-bye to Will.
“Kyra?” Will’s voice was gruff with slumber. She must have moved in spite of herself.
She swallowed hard and turned her face against the pillow, trying to blot the tears. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
He moved his hand carefully away from her breast, tucking it between her rib cage and the mattress so she was held against him even more firmly. “I’m not.”
She was going to cry again if he said one more nice thing to her. “I need to go.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“I don’t want to drag this out.”
He jerked as though he’d just remembered the night before himself. “I see.” Then the weight of his arm was gone and she felt him roll away from her.
She grabbed the corner of the sheet to swipe it surreptitiously over her cheeks. Then she scrambled off the bed. Turning to face him when she was naked was difficult. But he lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling.
“It’s hard enough to say good-bye,” she said.
“Right,” he said, his face still turned away from her. She’d never heard Will so monosyllabic.
Suddenly, he threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. She allowed herself one last scan of his long, muscled body before she began the search for her clothes. They’d tossed them every which way last night, so she had to hunt around the bed for the dark puddles of fabric.
“These are yours.” Will’s voice yanked her attention to her bra and panties dangling from his elegant fingers.
“Thanks.” A ridiculous sense of modesty made her turn her back to wriggle into them.
She heard the hiss of fabric against skin and glanced around to see Will pull on his jeans without benefit of briefs. The sight sent a spear of heat through her. She scooped up her own trousers and tugged them up. Her top was missing in action. Getting down on her hands and knees to peer under the bed would be the perfect addition to the awfulness of the moment.
But Will rescued her by rummaging around among the sheets and pillows to pull out both their shirts. “Apologies for the wrinkles,” he said with a tight smile.
This time she didn’t bother to hide as she slipped the crumpled black top over her head while he did the same with his shirt.
They faced each other. She noticed that several golden strands of Will’s hair stuck out from the side of his head and that one side of his collar was turned up while the other was down. His face was shuttered, nothing showing except for shadows moving in his eyes.
The five feet of air between them vibrated with all the words they held back.
“I hope you consider teaching,” she said. “You should give yourself that gift.”
She saw surprise in the way his eyebrows lifted. “Not the main thing on my mind right now.” He broke eye contact as he glanced down to shove his foot into a loafer.
She’d forgotten she was barefoot and looked around for her boots. One lay on its side right next to Will’s other loafer. She dodged around him, keeping the same five feet between them, and scooped up her shoe.
He bent and then pulled her other boot from under the bed. As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, making her suck in a breath. She plunked down on the bed to hide her reaction from him—and from herself.
As she zipped on her boots, she tried to formulate a farewell that hit all the right notes: genuine regret, appreciation for what they’d had, a wish to remain friends but only at a distance. When she got up, shecaught Will standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. She had the odd thought that he was also trying to find the right words, even though he was usually eloquence itself.
