“Hey,” she says softly, her eyes guarded.
I clear my throat and walk the rest of the wa
y into the kitchen.
“Hey.”
She twists her hands in front of her nervously, and I want to take her in my arms.
“I’m making eggs and bacon.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the stove. “I figured you might be hungry.”
I frown, wondering why she could still be concerned about me after I left her the way I did in the bedroom, but then I remember, this is Gwen. She’s kind and giving and would push past the hurt if it meant it would somehow help others. I may not know her that well, but I know her enough to sense she’s that type of person.
I shift from one foot to the other, suddenly feeling awkward. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She frowns and looks down, and I feel like an even bigger ass. I walk over and lift her chin. I need to fix this. She didn’t ask for me to climb on top of her and rut away, although she didn’t ask me to stop either and from the way she reacted, she wanted it, too. The least I can do after dry humping her is to not be a jerk.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, hoping she sees the sincerity in my eyes. “I’d love some breakfast.”
Some of the hurt leaves her face and she gives me a small smile. One corner of my mouth tips up, and the act seems to satisfy her even more as her smile grows.
“Good.” She runs her hands down the front of her jeans and takes a step back. I want to yank her forward again until her soft body meets my hard one, but I drop my hand and let her go. “You go have a seat. It’s almost done.”
Instead of doing what she says, I stand where I am and watch as she turns back to the stove and picks up a spatula. Her tight jeans mold perfectly against her ass, and I jerk my eyes away before my body can appreciate the view. Her hair is tossed up into a messy ponytail, with a few strands falling down the back. Her graceful neck is on display, and I’d love nothing more than to run my lips up the slender column.
I frown, wondering why it’s so hard to keep my thoughts pure when it comes to her. I turn and take a seat at the bar, putting my balled fists on the wood surface. I try not to watch her move around the kitchen, but it’s a feat I don’t manage. She looks way too good and natural as she cooks. Yes, she was here for four days and cooked each day, but she looks as if she’s been doing it here in my kitchen for years. Like this is where she belongs.
She sets a plate of food and a glass of orange juice down in front of me before making her own plate and sitting beside me. I look down at the food and my stomach twists. Nausea from too much alcohol the night before has me regretting telling her I wanted breakfast. I ignore the queasiness and pick up my fork, refusing to hurt her feelings even more by turning it away.
“When we finish eating, I can take you to pick up your truck if you’d like,” she says a few minutes later.
“I can walk. It’s not that far. I’m sure you need to get back to Kelsey and Daniel.” I set my fork down and turn to regard her.
She shakes her head. “I’ve already called Jeremy this morning. He knows to expect me home in about an hour. Besides, it’s on the way.”
I nod, get up from my chair, and take my plate to the sink. Gigi comes sauntering around the corner and stops at my feet to look up at me.
“Okay,” I agree, secretly glad it’ll give me a few more minutes with her. I grab a bowl from the cabinet, pour some dog food in it, and set it on the floor for Gigi. I give her head a few rubs while she chomps down on her breakfast.
When I turn back to face Gwen, she’s looking at me with watchful eyes. It unnerves me because there’s no telling what she’s looking for and if she finds it. She drops her eyes seconds later and grabs her own plate. Instead of setting it in the sink like I did, she washes the dish, along with mine and the ones she used for cooking, and places them in the drying rack.
Five minutes later, we leave the house and make our way to my truck. Neither of us has said anything since we finished our breakfast. Before I’m ready, we’re pulling along the side of the road by the Hallow’s Creek Bridge.
My body tenses up and my jaw tics as we both sit in the truck silently. This place always makes me edgy.
I look over when her hand touches mine and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I find her looking at me with understanding.
“Do me a favor?” she asks in the quiet of the truck.
“What?”
“Call me if you ever want to talk.”
A fierce pain wedges its way in my chest, because she knows this is goodbye for us. I know it too, but I still fucking hate it. It’s for the best though.
I nod, even knowing I’ll never call. If I do, I won’t be able to stop, and then talking on the phone won’t be good enough.
“Thank you.”