He wasn't letting the conversation end like this. He rested a hand on her arm. “It wasn’t easy for me to admit why letting you do this scares me. Give me some leeway.”
She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat. “Where do we draw the line? Are we colleagues? Lovers? You don’t want to lose everything, and I don’t want that either. But if they’re two separate things, as you keep insisting they are, how are we going to keep from clashing?”
He didn’t want to think about the questions, but he adored her for asking. That didn’t give him any answers, though. “We figure it out along the way?”
“Do you think that’s going to work? What if we can’t figure it out? If our screwing ends with us hating each other, there are consequences that extend beyond us. That’s what you’re worried about, and it’s a valid concern.”
“So what do we do about it? You have an idea, I assume?” He didn’t want to let irritation leak into his question, but his frustration at not having answers had reached its limit. “We don’t see each other anymore outside the office? How well do you think that’s going to go?”
“We have to dial things back.” She slid her watch up and down her wrist, not looking at him. “The sex was about closure and stress relief, right? We got that. Can we figure out how to just be friends instead?”
It wasn’t that he disliked the idea of friendship with Rae, but he wanted that on top of everything else, including her. Except, she had a good point. “Yeah. Friends is a good idea.”
She climbed from the car, still not meeting his gaze. “See you tomorrow.” Her voice was so quiet, he had to strain to hear the words. She strode toward Chloe’s apartment without another glance back.
This was the right decision. So why did it make him clench his teeth and want to slam his fist into the dashboard?
Chapter Fifteen
Rae lay on her mattress, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't coming. Why did she have to go and apply logic to something like emotion? She promised herself she wouldn't let him get under her skin. That she could walk away. That, with enough distraction, he would barely be more than a flicker in the back of her mind.
So why can’t I get him out of my head? And why do I feel guilty for pushing him away the way I did?
Because she was so focused on not getting attached, she was ignoring all the important details: how much she enjoyed talking to him, the small gestures that made her pulse race almost as much as his kisses did, and just spending time with him. When had keeping their relationship physical become an all-encompassing motivation for her?
Without getting out of bed, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand. The glare of the screen was harsh in the dark room, and she winced until her eyes adjusted to the glow. There was no way she could say what she needed in a single message, but she had to tell him something. She couldn’t leave things the way she had. She deleted and restarted her text several times before settling on a simple message.
I was wrong.
He wasn’t going to answer tonight. She might as well get some rest.
The minutes dragged by. Her brain still wouldn’t shut up. Giving up on sleep, she climbed out of bed. She pulled on a pair of knit shorts, straightened her camisole, and then made her way into the kitchen. Chloe’s bedroom door was closed, and the flicker of pale light coming from underneath, but lack of sound told Rae her sister was gaming with her headphones on rather than having fallen asleep with the TV on.
A quiet knock filled the dark room, sending a tremor through Rae, and she paused. She swallowed and padded toward the door. Her heart flipped when she peered through the peephole. Zach stood on the other side, tugging on his ponytail.
She flipped the deadbolt off and opened the door enough to let him in. He took the silent offer and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him. He brought his hands to her face, cupped her cheeks, and then kissed her. There was hunger in his lips. It stole her breath as he held her close, and she gasped when they broke apart. He studied her, blue eyes hungry.
She didn't know what else to do. She pressed her frame against him and crushed her mouth to his. The sensations set her nerve endings on fire, and she stumbled back, pulling him with her. She hit the arm of the couch, lost her balance, fell backward, and landed on the cushions.
He laughed as he kneeled on the couch, straddling her, and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “I couldn't sleep. I was out driving, and I got your message, and I… I don’t even know. I had to see you.”
“What are we doing?”
He shook his head. “Not talking. For God's sake, we've done enough of that.” He leaned forward, lips brushing her collarbone then tracing a line up her neck. “We can hash it all out later, I promise, but, holy fuck, I want you so bad right now—and we can talk if you want, but I don’t promise I’m thinking clearly.”