He thought about any number of things he could say to change her mind. Except not via a damn text. John needed to talk to her. He needed to tell her she was just scared because what had happened between them had been really intense. It wasn’t just the sex either, he knew that. It was all the feeling behind the sex that had sent her running.
He had to see her to tell her that. He didn’t know where she worked. Hell, now that he thought about it he didn’t even know her last name. That’s how sudden this had all been.
All he had was a number, and that text had said it all. She wasn’t going to answer him again. For all he knew she was blocking him right now.
“Shit,” John said, throwing the phone at the unmade bed that still smelled faintly of her.
That’s when he had to accept it. Maybe this wasn’t her running scared at all. Maybe Kate had finally come to the realization he had that first time he saw her.
She was in fact out of his league.
Chapter Eight
Kate stared at her computer, looking at an email she’d read for the hundredth time, but it still wasn’t making any sense to her. Déjà vu, she thought sadly. Although in her defense nothing was making sense lately. Not a single thing had made sense since she got up out of John’s bed and left in the early hours of the morning.
He’d been snoring. Not a loud, obnoxious sound, just a soft rumble of his chest that made him even more endearing.
If that was possible.
Which is why it made perfect sense to leave him. While she could. Before she took this thing… whatever it was, too seriously. It was a fling. A Christmas miracle, in her case. She’d had some pretty amazing sex, and now she was good. No need for anyone’s emotions to get involved.
“Okay, you know you’re crying, right?”
Kate looked up to see Sally standing in her office door with a cup of Starbucks in her hand. She quickly brushed the corner of her eye with her fingers.
“Eyelash,” she muttered.
“Right.” Sally said unconvincingly as she set the white cardboard cup in front of her.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kate asked, reaching for it with the idea that drowning in the coffee might make her feel better.
“I was coming back from lunch and I thought you might need it. I’m going to say this as politely as I can. You look like hell, Kate.”
Kate looked at her longtime friend and co-worker. “That wasn’t very polite.”
Sally sat down. “Please tell me what happened. I know this isn’t about my guy. Carol told me you bailed on the hookup, so I have to assume this is about the ex-con. You saw him again? Did he… I mean geez… did he hurt you?”
Kate let out a sad laugh. No, of course he hadn’t hurt her. He had destroyed her, which is why she left him. She wasn’t equipped to deal with that kind of pain.
“You’re not answering me, and if you don’t I swear I’ll call the police myself…”
“He didn’t hurt me. He was amazing and wonderful. And sweet. And perfect.”
“And?”
Kate felt her mouth tugging down in a way she couldn’t control. Then her shoulders were shaking and she realized this wasn’t simply crying. This was sobbing. Instantly Sally was up and had an arm around her shoulders while Kate struggled to get herself under control.
“Oh honey, it’s okay. Let it out and you’ll feel better.”
Kate pulled away from her and stood up, not able to take the comfort Sally was offering—especially when she’d been at fault. It was easier to keep moving, even if it was just pacing back and forth in her office.
“No, you don’t understand. I’m the one who ran. The one who hurt him. I just couldn’t… I mean it was all too much. I was lying there in his arms, thinking it was the first time I hadn’t been alone since my mother died, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk letting him become that important to me, because what if he…”
Kate closed her mouth, uncertain of what she’d been about to say. Surely she wasn’t worried he would die. He was a strong, healthy man in his forties. It would be ridiculous to be so maudlin.
“Left,” Sally said. “The word you are looking for is left.”
Kate put her hand over her mouth, because she knew her jaw was gaping. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Am I really doing that? Am I afraid every man is going to be like my father?”
Sally moved closer, but she didn’t try to touch her. Kate would have flinched if she had. Her entire body felt oversensitized.
“I’m no shrink, but it makes sense doesn’t it? The first impression you had of a man in your life was your father. Leaving you and your mother. You told me the story. Trust me, we’ve spent enough time drinking margaritas together at happy hour for me to have picked up on your deal. You’ve had a few shallow relationships in your life, but nothing solid. Instead you put all your energy into this company.”