Page 47 of We Were Something
“Everything okay in—whoops!”
The sound of Cohen walking into the room is like a bucket of cold water flooding my system, and I jerk away from where I’m pressed against Paige, taking a long step back and putting a few feet of space between us.
Cohen lets out a chuckle.
“Guess I should have knocked first,” he says, seemingly completely unfazed by the fact that he walked in on us rubbing against each other like cats in heat.
“No worries,” I say, trying to affect an easygoing expression but likely giving him something pinched and uncomfortable. “Are we all settled then?”
Cohen sets down several black bags along the table against the back wall. He keeps his eyes cast away from us as he grabs the few final items I’ve just changed out of to add to one of the bags—the cufflinks, shoes, belt, shirt, tie, and slacks.
“Absolutely! Let me know if you have any issues,” he says, bustling around to collect everything and folding things neatly.
All while Paige and I stand motionless.
“I’ve put my card in with an itemized receipt, and Paige knows how to get in touch with me as well.” Cohen then glances back at us for just a second, a shit-eating grin stretched across his face. “Take your time, and head out whenever. Toodles!”
And then he walks out the door, leaving Paige and me behind.
I quickly try to adjust myself in my jeans, thankful that the dark fabric likely camouflaged my erection from Cohen. When I turn to look at Paige, I find her gathering her belongings—her purse, her keys—and slipping her feet back into her sandals, studiously avoiding my eyes.
Suddenly, I’m overrun with the thought that I’ve done something wrong. Something to make her uncomfortable.
And something bitter and restrictive turns over in my stomach when she can barely meet my eyes as she says, “Ready to head out?”
I grab the bags and follow silently in Paige’s wake as she leads us out of the private shopping room and through the store, out to where the valet has already brought around her blue Camaro.
I place the bags in the trunk then climb into the passenger seat, all on autopilot, wondering what I can do or say to erase this sudden awkwardness between us. But the thirty-minute drive back to my house passes entirely in silence, save for the muted playlist Paige has going in the background.
I don’t know what I expected after a night like tonight, but having her pull into the driveway in front of my house, her face studiously staring forward like she can’t even look at me isnotwhat I would have imagined or hoped for.
Especially not after what happened between us at the store.
I clear my throat once. Then again. Before finally managing to come up with something to say.
“Thank you so much for your help tonight,” I tell her, wishing she would turn and look at me.
She just nods. “Absolutely. Glad I could help.”
Her fingers flex on the steering wheel, and I realize belatedly that she didn’t turn off the engine. She has no plans to come inside with me.
Clearing my throat again, I unbuckle my seatbelt and consider my options.
“Would you…I mean, do you want to come in for a…glass of wine or something?” There’s a long pause where Paige says nothing, and I start to reconsider my offer. “Not that youhave to, if you don’t want. I just—”
“Sure.”
Her eyes flit to mine just briefly before she turns off the engine and the two of us climb out of her car. I grab my bags from the back then we walk up the front steps as I fiddle with my keys.
“Thanks again for helping me get this taken care of tonight,” I tell her as we walk through the entry and into the small kitchen.
Placing the bags on the floor next to the island, I brace my hands on the counter and level Paige with a look, realizing I need to sort out this uncomfortable energy between us before I take the risk of introducing any more alcohol into the mix.
“Look, if I…did something, or said something…anything that made you uncomfortable, I—”
“No!” Paige exclaims, her face flushing as her brows pinch together. “Not atall.”
I stare at her for a beat before finally gathering the nerve to just ask. “Then…why can’t you even look at me?”
