Cassie was Parker’s friend. It was never more clear than last night—Cassie and Parker and Acacia talking way too loudly over Zoom, giggling and shrieking and acting like Parker had with her friends since she was a kid—albeit with more cursing and dirtier jokes.
Meeting Cassie separately, meeting her first, without knowing she knew Parker—Erin saw her differently than Parker’s other friends. Erin knew Caleb when he was still in Melissa’s stomach. Lila and Madison were in kindergarten with Parker. Parker’s friends hadn’t just been her friends first, they’d been kids first. Erin had met Cassie as an adult. She had known she was young from across the bar. Her smooth, flawless skin and that middle part in her hair. Erin just hadn’t realized how young.
Not that her age was even the issue. Her age made Erin feel good, actually. She hated the way youth was revered in women. Lusted after. But she couldn’t deny it felt nice that a college student thought she was hot.
No, it was the small issue of Cassie knowing her daughter. The Christmas video chat with Acacia reminded Erin of that, and she swore to herself—again—that nothing could happen with Cassie.
When Cassie came downstairs, though, Erin still hadn’t decided how to make that clear to her. The thought of actually talking about it made her itch. She didn’t want to address the choices she’d made since that first breakfast. How could she explain choosing an outfit for the a cappella concert that would be easy access for Cassie? How could she explain following Cassie to the bathroom or kissing her on Christmas Eve? How could she explain any of it while claiming to not want it to happen again? What she wanted wasn’t the problem. Or—it was very much the problem, because she wanted to do it all again the exact same way. She wanted to keep doing it. Cassie was hot. She had a smirk that made Erin wet, every time, and she used it way too often. She was great in bed—or in the back of the car, anyway, and in the bathroom, too. Her mouth on Erin’s chest had made Erin want to forget about the concert, about her daughter, and drag Cassie to her hotel, get her to use her tongue on more interesting places. Two nights ago, with Parker down the hall, Erin had slid her leg between Cassie’s. Erin had wanted so much more than they’d had time for.
If it weren’t already exceedingly clear, Erin had no idea what she was doing. She’d tried to be nice to Cassie, to make up for being such a bitch on the phone. They should’ve been able to be friendly. Erin liked getting along with Parker’s friends. But she obviously couldn’t be trusted. Being nice to Cassie led to flirting with Cassie, which led to whatever the fuck she’d done. It felt inevitable. Like gravity. Erin didn’t mean to. But Cassie was smart and sly and her smile lit up a room.
And the way she looked at Erin?
Her gaze felt like something physical. The pressure of it, dragging up and down Erin’s body. Erin wanted to lean into it.
So yes, what she wanted was the problem.
As she heard Cassie move closer—probably after not finding her in the living room or kitchen—Erin’s options opened before her like a rapidly approaching fork in the road. She couldn’t be honest. But to deny it would be such an obvious lie as to be laughable. Cassie wouldn’t believe her.
Or worse, Cassie would believe her, and Erin would have to see the look in her eyes when she felt unwanted.
A third possibility: the nuclear option. It’d worked well enough over the phone. If Erin could keep a lid on her guilt, she might be able to pull it off.
“There you are,” Cassie said.
Erin did not turn around at her desk. “Here I am.”
“Is it my turn to get you coffee today?”
Cassie’s voice was so … it was goofy. Overly enthusiastic in this adorable way that she was probably cringing about. Like she was trying to be flirty but didn’t know how to do it and was just pushing forward with enthusiasm. And here Erin was, about to crush that spring of hope.
She held up her mug. “Already got it.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Erin read the same sentence three times and the silence stretched until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Did you forget where the coffee cups are?”
She could hear the breath Cassie sucked in.
“They’re in the cabinet above the coffee pot.”
No response. Eventually, Erin glanced over her shoulder, but the door to her office was empty. Good. Cassie clearly picked up on Erin being curt. Maybe that would be enough.
She should not have let Cassie visit. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen this coming. This thing with Cassie should’ve been a ridiculous memory—something fun that happened once at Family Weekend and never again. She needed to go back to her normal life.
Yesterday had been okay. Cassie had given her a kind gift, and hadn’t balked over the necklace, even if Erin was sure it was too much. They could get along, be friendly. As long as they weren’t alone together.
Erin went back to reading, or tried to, anyway. Her focus was shit. She hadn’t made it more than half a chapter before:
“You kissed me.”
Erin started at the voice. She turned halfway around before realizing she could not look at Cassie right now. She went back to staring blankly at the book in front of her.
“I did, and I apologize,” she said. “It was a mistake.”
She shuffled some papers around.
“Why?”
“You’re a smart kid,” Erin said, and she didn’t have to see Cassie’s face to know she was rolling her eyes. “You don’t need me to tell you why it was a mistake.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Cassie said. “Why did you do it?”
Erin sighed. Why did she kiss Cassie? Because her ex-husband was an asshole and Cassie was so much more than what he saw when he looked at her. Because Cassie had calmed her down when she was stressed, made her feel good instead. Because Cassie always made her feel good. Because she wanted to.
She said none of that. She kept her voice flat, devoid of any emotion. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen again.”
Please let this be enough.
If being curt hadn’t been enough, this wouldn’t be either, but Erin wished anyway. She didn’t want to hurt Cassie, even if it was the right decision. Certainly a better decision than the ones she’d been making lately.
“How many times have you told yourself that?” Cassie asked.
Erin turned around in her chair. What a mistake.
Cassie’s blond hair was a lion’s mane. Erin wanted to bury her hands in it. She wanted to trail her fingers high up Cassie’s bare legs to where her pajama shorts brushed loose against her thighs. Through the thin white tank top, Erin could see Cassie’s nipples. Wild hair and pajamas and all, Cassie managed to look both imposing and alluring.