Page 54 of Our Long Days
She freezes, the cause clear as fucking day.
And I hate myself for it.
My hold on her slackens as she scrambles off my lap. A canyon separates us.
“Florence…” I whisper, sitting upright.
With an arm covering her chest and a hand fisting thecomforter, she shakes her head, gaze lowered. “I don’t want to be a distraction, not again. That’s all I am. To my friends. Family. Myself.” When she looks up, her crumpled expression shatters me. “I don’t want to be that to you. Once was enough.”
Gripping the back of my neck, I mutter a curse. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“What was?”
I’m stumped. “I don’t know. I’m attracted to you, and you make me… I like how you make me feel.”
She smiles sadly. “Attraction isn’t the issue here. I like how I feel around you too, but it can’t be because you want to forget. It has to be because you want me. It’s fine if you don’t, I get it, and if you’d rather I quit?—”
“No. Fuck, no.” The volume of my protest has me wincing, the headache from my attack not entirely gone. “The last thing you’re going to do is quit. This is on me.”
She releases an exasperated breath, shoulders slumping. “Then what do we do? We promised to forget, which clearly isn’t working,” she says, gesturing to the rumpled sheets. “I’m fine being your employee, your friend, but I can’t be the woman to warm your bed when you’re searching for an escape. We need to accept it happened and move on, or this won’t work. You’re not obligated to reciprocate my feelings. I’ve learned to live with them for a while.”
My heart stalls, mouth dropping open to speak, but what the fuck do I say?
She notes my surprise. “Here’s me thinking it was obvious…” The blush lingering on her cheeks intensifies. “Seriously, Dex, it’s just a silly crush. Whatever I feel for you will pass. Don’t worry.”
I’m a sick bastard, because all I can think is,I don’t want this to pass.
She rises from the bed and slips her dress over her head, leaving me tired and confused through no fault of hers.
“This isn’t about you. I need you to know that, Florence.” I reach for her, but she steps away. “If you weren’t Pat’s sister and…” My words trail off, the truth too raw and painful.
I’ve got nothing to offer.
The words are there, tip, tip, tipping over the edge. Then, my cowardice snatches them up. Instead, I ask, “Do you want to quit?” while pleading she doesn’t.
I’m torn down the middle. I can’t stay away. She can’t get too close.
“No.” Her response is absolute. “I’m not judging if you’re looking for something casual, but that’s not for me. And if I’m being honest, my heart might not survive another night of distractions. I’m a hopeless romantic—sue me.”
She’s halfway across the room when a thought hits me. “What about your list?”
Her nose wrinkles. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. A silly list written by a naïve fifteen-year-old. Forget about it.” The distance between us grows as she inches toward the door. “Thank you for letting me drive your truck, but it’s best we keep things professional. I’ll ask one of my brothers to teach me.”
I don’t get the chance to respond. My exhausted body twitches to run after her, but my brain tells me to give her space. I’ve got no business craving even an ounce of Florence’s attention. I’m a lucky son of a bitch she gave me a peek into a chamber of her heart to begin with.
Too wound up to sleep, I stare at the ceiling, reeling over the last twenty-four hours.
I’m already living my life by one vow. What’s two more?
One: protect Florence’s heart.
Two: whatever it takes, she’ll finish that list.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
florence
My Kindle screenflickers to black. A smutty book usually does the trick when my mood drops. Today, though, it does the opposite. Reading about a woman getting railed by the sexy, broody cowboy hits a little too close to home.
