What were they, middle schoolers? C’mon.
Exasperated, he stabbed at a piece of waffle and the tongs of his fork clanged against the plate each time he went back for another bite. He wanted to say something, but anything that came out of his mouth would either piss her off or send her fleeing in terror, so he kept his jaw clamped. Which made eating difficult. Each new bite was more and more like gnawing on cement.
About half-way through the silent meal, she slowed, picking at her food instead of devouring it. Then she stopped.
“Dammit, I hate this awkwardness,” she blurted and threw her fork at her plate. She turned to him, a plea in her dark eyes. “Cam, I don’t want to lose our friendship over one night.”
“I already told you it was just sex,” he muttered. “Not a big deal.”
“But nothing has been the same between us. I miss you.”
He exhaled and set down his own fork. “I miss you, too.”
“Good. Then let’s put this behind us and—”
“No.”
She sat back like he’d hauled off and punched her. “What?”
Fuck it. He was done biding his time. He’d thought it was the right move with how nervous she was, but last night proved she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
“Things can’t go back to the way they were between us.” He let all the desire he had for her show on his face. His voice roughened, and if she glanced down at his lap, she’d get an eyeful. He was so hard, the tip of his cock peeked out the top of pants, and he didn’t bother hiding it. “Every time I see you, I remember how fucking amazing the sex was and I want more of it. I didn’t get enough that night.”
Eva dropped her head into her arms on the counter and groaned. “See, this is why I’ve been avoiding you. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with you.”
“Can you tell me you haven’t replayed Key West in your mind over and over again until you’re so wound up you have to do something about it? Isn’t that what happened last night?”
Color infused her cheeks again when she looked up, and that was all the answer he needed. Yes, she’d gotten herself off on her memories more than once since returning home.
She ducked her head, her hair falling forward to shield her face. “Last night was…”
“What? A mistake? A fluke? A bad idea? Yeah, probably, but you can’t blame alcohol this time because we were both stone cold sober. I knew exactly what I was doing. I wanted it. Hell, I wanted to climb the ladder and see you touching yourself, taste you as you came, then fuck you until neither of us could walk.” Her flinch made him feel like a jerk, but he’d had enough of second guessing himself and censoring his words. This tap dance they’d been doing around each other since returning home had gotten old. If she was stuck here for a few days, they were going to hash this out right now. “Tell me you didn’t want that, too.”
She straightened in her seat and met his gaze, her eyes full of her damned stubborn pride. “I didn’t. I don’t. Not with you.”
“You’ve never had much of a poker face, Cardoso.”
“Cam…” she said his name faintly, almost an imploration. He shook his head, cutting off any excuses she might try to make. He wasn’t in the mood for them.
“I’m sorry. That’s where we stand, and we can’t go back.”
Walking out of the kitchen was the hardest thing he had ever done, knowing that this might be the end of their friendship and he’d never see her again when the snowstorm ended. But she had to make a choice and she couldn’t do it with him hanging around, riling her up.
He shut himself in the en suite off his bedroom and leaned on the sink, refusing to let the sense of defeat rising in his chest get him down. She wanted him as much as he did her. He knew it without a shred of doubt. So why was it so damn hard for her to admit?
“She’ll come around,” he told his reflection. He just had to be patient a little longer.
But, fucking hell, after five years he was nearly out of patience.
Groaning at himself, he shoved away from the sink and stripped off his sweatpants. He started the shower and jumped in without checking the water temp, welcoming the blast of ice over his head until his nipples pebbled, goose bumps prickled across his skin, and his boys threatened shrinkage. Only then did he adjust the water to a more comfortable temperature, but that was as far as he got. A hot shower wasn’t the kind of heat he’d wanted when he woke up this morning. Stupid of him to hope for more from her, but after last night’s mutual masturbation session, he had.