“What are you thinking?” she whispers.
“It’s selfish to want you to want em when I’m not available, but I want you to fall for me. I want to be what keeps you up at night and what puts a smile on your face in the morning.”
She leans in and places her hands on my pecs. Her nose slides along the side of mine, and we both close our eyes. Our lips touch, but just barely, and she freezes. She sucks in a deep breath and her chest presses against mine. God, that feels good. More than good.
“I’ve already fallen,” she murmurs.
I don’t even think about the decision I have to make. I lean in and press against her lips. She sighs as I slide my lips over hers and drink in this incredible fucking feeling.
This is wrong.
So fucking wrong.
And it feels amazing.
Holy fuck does it feel amazing.
In a single moment, she’s gone.
When I open my eyes, the regret I feel is instant. Shit. I’ve become that guy. I’ve become the fucking asshole who doesn’t deserve beautiful women who cuddle during scary movies, or block doors, or tease me about fire poles. I wipe my hands over my mouth and let my head fall into my hands. Fuck.
“I have to apologize,” she says. I lift my head and watch her shake her hands wildly as she turns to face me. Her face scrunches up as she says, “I like you, a lot, more than I should. But you have a girlfriend, and I have to respect that, and I’m sorry for pushing the boundaries.”
“I pushed,” I say quickly and stand from my seat. “I’m trying to be a good guy.”
“You are a good guy.”
“Then I have to go.”
Because now that I know how she tastes, there’s no way I can be a good guy if I stay here. And I want to be a good guy so, so fucking much.
Chapter 6
Jameson
I didn’t sleep a wink that night after I left Mel’s place. It was miserable, coming back to the apartment I share with Lydia, knowing what I’d done. Lydia asked me how work was, if there were any big fires, and if I needed a back rub. I’d have felt like the biggest scum on earth if I didn’t know her as well as I do. Lydia has her moments, for sure, but she never offers more than she has to unless she wants something. She tried to play it off like it was a gift to her to make me feel better, but that was bullshit.
That was three days ago, and she’s asked me about how work is going twice since then. Once, two days ago, she told me she wasn’t feeling well, and because I’m feeling guilty as fuck, I tried to baby her. She’d said some shit about how I’m such a good caretaker and how I’m always there for her. It’s not normal, the way she’s acting. Lydia’s not this appreciative. She doesn’t fawn over me and she’s certainly not as helpless as she’s been acting. I just don’t know how to call her on it without confessing to what I’ve done. Letting Mel get close enough for me to kiss her was a bad move. There’s nothing left between Lydia and I. I just don’t know how to end it without Lydia spiraling out. I already know that she won’t move back to Maine and there’s nobody in the city close enough to her to help keep her stable.
The front door opens, and Lydia walks in with a big smile on her face. She’s got a slight skip in her step, and when her smile lands on me, she nearly giggles. I pause the video game I’m playing and set the controller down on the coffee table. I smile, a genuine smile, at her happiness. I don’t hate the woman, not by a long shot. Just because we’re not who we used to be doesn’t mean that she can’t be it for somebody else. She closes the door behind her, leans back against it, and blows out a heavy breath.
“You look happy,” I say and lean back into the couch.
“I might be. I don’t know. I could be. I don’t know.” Her words rush out, and she squeezes her eyes shut and taps her fingers against the door behind her. She pushes off the door, drops her purse, and kicks off her heels as she beelines for the couch and climbs up next to me. “We need to talk.”
With raised eyebrows and a tad of paranoia, I mumble, “Yeah.”