I follow her lead, stepping back to give us some distance. ‘Talk to me, Cat,’ I urge.
She freezes and I can see her spinning through a variety of excuses. Without warning she hunches over.
‘Oh, cramps!’ she says loudly. ‘Wow … awful, awful cramps …I don’t think we can …’
She rushes past me, skittering down the hall toward the bathroom. I follow her, torn between the desire to laugh at her desperation or acknowledging the insidious fear that I’ve ruined everything for her.
The bathroom door is closed. I rap it with my knuckles.
‘Go away,’ she orders. ‘I don’t want you to see me puking my guts out.’
‘I thought they were cramps, brown eyes.’
Silence. Then a miserable, ‘Umm, cramps in my stomach … area … place …’
I rest my head against the door and chuckle. ‘I’m coming in whether you want it or not.’
She’s perched on the vanity, legs drawn up so her toes curl around the edge of the counter. She watches me out of the corner of her eyes and buries her face against her knees. ‘I am such an idiot,’ she mumbles.
‘You’re not an idiot.’
Her head pops up at that and she glares at me. ‘How am I not? I didn’t—’
‘You’re allowed to change your mind, Cat,’ I say drily. ‘I’d rather you tell me no than let me go through with it and ruin it for you.’
She bites her lower lip. I now know how firm it is, how easy it is to suck and nibble. The erection that was fading is back with a vengeance.
‘You’d never ruin it for me,’ she says softly. ‘You would be perfect.’
But she doesn’t want me.
Fuck, that thought hurts a hell of a lot more than it should.
‘Nah.’ I keep my voice light, joking. This night is all about her. I can deal with all this weird shit I’m feeling later. Hopefully when I’m in Arizona and hundreds of miles away.
She doesn’t try to escape as I step closer. My arms settle around her and her eyes close. She makes a soft noise and her body relaxes against me. I hug her, burying my face in her hair, breathing slowly, forcing my raging hard-on under control.
‘So …’
She stiffens.
‘Netflix?’
She peeks up at me suspiciously. ‘Really?’
‘No BBC dramas.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘No Vin Diesel movies.’
‘No Disney.’
Her gasp of mock shock cracks me up.
‘Fine.’ I give in. She’s had a hard night. ‘But no crappy sequels. Fair?’
/> ‘Fair.’
It doesn’t take us long to move on, which makes me wonder if all the tension between us was only in my head. She blows out the candles and I snag my shirt off her floor. We meet up in the living room; she’s in her PJs and I’m in sweats. We grin at each other.