Page 378 of One More Kiss
“It’s the best,” she says, her eyes sparkling with pride. “It’s grown so much since you were last there. I started a painting party every other Thursday night and we’ve had a steady stream of bachelorette parties and girls’ nights out come through, renting out the space I have in the back.”
“Wow. You were just getting started with it when I first met you.”
“I know. It’s insane. I never thought it would get like this, but I’m so grateful. I was thinking about having a sex toy party one night. See if that brings in a crowd.”
I laugh, kissing her forehead. “I have no doubt it would. Do you sell a lot of those?”
She throws me a cheeky grin. “Yup. There are lots of women out there who aren’t getting any, aren’t getting it as good as they’d like, or have fun playing with their partner.”
“I’m thinking we could be the latter.”
“I’m thinking we could. Maybe one night when you have a bit more time, I’ll show you my collection.”
“Jesus. You’re going to make my dick hard again and as much as I’d love to go another round, this time we should eat.”
“You’re making this into a date.”
Her tone is cautious. Almost a warning. I cup her face in my hand, water cascading down on us. I lick my lips. “I want it to be like a date. Maybe I shouldn’t and maybe that’s wrong of me, but it’s like I told you, you’re more to me than just the sex.”
Her eyes hold mine for another moment before she looks away, rinsing her body off one last time. I decide to let it go. I’m pushing things I shouldn’t be pushing. Saying things I know better than to say. We finish up in the shower, both of us drying off and getting dressed. Me into the clean clothes I brought with me to work. I change the bandage on her hand and tell her I’ll remove the stitches next week.
The food is delivered, and Delaney opens a bottle of red wine.
Her apartment isn’t big, a small one-bedroom, which has us eating at the breakfast bar in her galley kitchen. We talk all through dinner. Laughing. And it’s easy. Sitting here and being with her. I kiss her goodbye, reluctantly, and it does feel like a date. As she said. Not a first or even a second date either. Maybe because we knew each other before. Spent a year and a half hanging out a few times a month.
I know Delaney and she knows me.
Which is why when I leave, slip into my car, start it up, and check my phone for the first time all night, I’m hit with a guilt so deep it knocks my breath sideways. Liam had texted, telling me he has tickets this weekend to a Red Sox game and is asking if Knox and I want to go.
Knox loves baseball, and if I bring his headphones, he does well at Fenway Park. He loves the junk food and watching the game and seeing the numbers up on the scoreboard. He loves going to games with his uncle.
What am I doing with this woman? And why don’t I know how to stop? She’s creating this chasm of need in me. Well beyond just fucking her. Its power is endlessly destructive.
I reply with a yes. Telling Liam we’d love to go.
Then I hit his number as I drive home, not exactly sure what I’m doing or what I’m going to say but calling him all the same.
“Hey.” He picks up, surprise in his voice because we text and rarely call. “Everything okay? I just got your text.”
“Yes.” Sigh. I pinch the bridge of my nose, staring at the screen of my car even though his face isn’t there. “I saw Delaney.”
My hand grips the wheel, my face scrunching up in pain as everything falls silent.
After an excruciatingly long moment, he clears his throat. “You did. Where? When?”
I can’t tell him I was with her tonight or that I saw her Friday night even because I didn’t mention a thing to him when we went to the movie on Saturday. “Yesterday. At the hospital. She came in for stitches.”
And while that’s technically a doctor-patient confidentiality breach, I had to tell him something real.
“She okay?”
“Yes. She sliced her hand at work. I fixed it up.”
Another beat of silence. Then, “How is she?”
And hearing his tone… I don’t know why I called him. Why I told him this. Other than I had to know if he still has feelings for her. Which obviously he does. I come to a stoplight and momentarily shut my eyes. “She’s good. Shop is doing well, growing, and expanding, she said. She seemed happy.”
“Good. That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.”
