Page 72 of Whispers and Wildfire
“I’m sorry.” He leaned in and brushed a quick kiss on my cheek. “Take care, Melanie.”
“You too, Hank.”
With unfocused eyes, I unlocked my door and wentinside. I barely heard his car door shut or the engine start again as I closed the door behind me.
You’re kind of a lot.
A few tears broke free from the corners of my eyes. I swiped them away, kicked off my heels, and flopped onto the couch. It was a stupid thing to cry over. I didn’t want to date Hank. He was fine, but was it so wrong to want more than that? More than fine?
I’d been married before, so I knew life wasn’t all passion and drama and excitement. That wasn’t what I needed—wasn’t what I was really looking for.
As I lay there, my view of the ceiling blurred by tears, I realized what I was looking for. Someone who understood me. Who knew me, and loved me for who I was, messiness and all.
I’d never had that. Or if I had, I’d lost it a long time ago. And now it was gone.
So I let myself cry. Me, who wasn’t much of a crier. I curled up in a ball and sobbed until my stomach clenched in a knot and my shoulders ached with unreleased tension.
After a while, the torrent of emotion slowed to a trickle. Still curled up on the couch, I tucked my hands under my cheek and caught my breath.
Normally, I would have sat up and cursed Hank—and probably Luke—in Queen Ione’s voice. Said something amusing, in character, in order to push away my feelings. But I hardly had the energy. I felt sapped and empty.
So I got up, and, not letting myself think about what had really made me cry so hard, I went to bed.
CHAPTER 18
Luke
There was reallysomething wrong with me.
I walked Jenna up to her front door with a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. She was going to invite me in. I could feel it. The drive from the restaurant had been filled with tension, and usually I’d have considered that a good thing.
What guy wouldn’t? Jenna was hot. Plus, she was sweet and we’d had a nice time. So why did the thought of going in with her make me want to crawl out of my own skin?
We approached her door, but she didn’t make a move to unlock it. She faced me and bit her bottom lip with a suggestive hint of a smile.
“I had a really good time tonight.” She moved a step closer, clearly expecting me to lean in and kiss her.
I absently wiped my hands on my pants. Were my palms sweating? “Yeah, me too.”
“So…” She tilted her chin up. “Would you like to come in?”
It took me a second before I could get an answer out. “I don’t think I should. Not tonight.”
“Oh.” She sounded surprised, but not upset. “Are you sure? I don’t ask unless I mean it.”
“I appreciate that. But not tonight.”
“All right. If you need to take things slow, I totally respect that.”
“Yeah, I do. Thanks.”
Her eyebrows lifted. She wanted me to kiss her. I didn’t want to kiss her, but I knew I’d feel bad if I didn’t. I leaned in and, at the last second, moved to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Night, Jenna. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Luke.”
Walking back to my car, I let out a long breath. I was ready to kick myself. What the hell, Luke? Why had I walked away from that? Why wasn’t I in there ripping her clothes off instead of slamming my car door and driving away?
