Page 62 of The Affair
I felt his hand tighten around my waist, and his head bent dangerously close to my own.
“Me either, but I’m willing to take a chance on the right partner.”
In all the fantasies I’d had over the last month that revolved around this man, none of them measured up to that first kiss.
When his lips met mine, it wasn’t like a cheesy rom-com where music swelled and the wind suddenly picked up. Nothing cataclysmic happened around us. The clock ticked on in the background, the world kept moving forward, but something inside me changed.
I’d always been amazed by how at home Sawyer felt here, but kissing him? Feeling his hands move through my hair, sensing the same passion he had for this very moment?
I’d had no idea how at home I’d feel with this man.
It was both a sobering and devastatingly scary thought.
One that stopped me in my tracks almost immediately—because the last time I’d felt so at home with another person, he’d made a mess of my heart, and I wasn’t sure I could suffer through that again.
As if sensing my hesitation, Sawyer pulled back, his fingers still wound in my hair as he checked me over.
Always so concerned.
“I’m okay,” I said, beating him to the question I knew he was about to ask. “But, I, um … just realized I was sick yesterday.”
A sadness washed over him.
Hadn’t I just spent forever trying to convince him of my physical health? Now, I was crying sick again?
“Right,” he said, stepping back. I felt the loss of his touch immediately. “Of course, you’re right. We shouldn’t. Not now.”
Not ever?
It was a question not said, but I could feel it in the air.
Where did this leave us?
Neither of us wanted to ask, so we both did the most logical thing. We avoided the question entirely and moved on as if the last five minutes had never happened.
But it had.
It most certainly had.
And as we stumbled through the rest of the night, finishing the cookies together and cooking dinner, I couldn’t help but wonder,Where do we go from here?
Chapter Eight
The next day, I was feeling back to my normal self.
Physically at least.
Emotionally, I was all over the map, so when Sawyer called in sick, explaining he’d caught my flu, I wasn’t sure how to react.
Was he telling the truth?
He’d certainly sounded sick on the phone.
But then again …
Maybe he was just trying to avoid me and the awkwardness between us after the life-altering kiss I’d interrupted?
Of course, the idea that he was sick had me wanting to rush over to his house the second I hung up the phone. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could microwave a can of soup just as well as anyone else. And if he needed someone to fluff his pillow or bring his Advil, I could definitely be that person.
