“We’re diametrically opposed.” They were back where they’d started.
“I know.” He wished he could tell her he might be happy someday to pursue a relationship with a woman who just wanted to live together. But he knew better. His time with Tricia had taught him that. Taught him, too, that trying to fit into a relationship that didn’t fit ended up stealing happiness from everyone.
“But it seems that we’re going to be some kind of friends,” she added, frowning as she peered out the front windshield. Whether she didn’t like something she saw out there, or her expression was a result of inward sight, he wasn’t sure.
“I hope we’ll always be in touch,” he agreed. A lot of times people parting ways said that and then never spoke again. But Isabella bound them.
“Feel free to tell me I’ve flipped my lid,” she said, glancing him up and down and then turning toward her window. “Be prepared for me to tell you that and back up on what I’m about to say...”
And there it was. She intrigued him all over again. He was ready to say hello again, rather than the goodbye of seconds before.
“I’m listening.”
“I was just thinking, since we both so clearly see that we don’t belong together—not that anyone suggested we did—what’s it going to hurt if we, you know, put ourselves out of our misery?”
Had she just suggested what he thought she had?
“Neither one of us would have to worry that the other was going to get hurt,” she continued in the same conversational tone. “Or that we’d get hurt.”
He wasn’t sure life worked like that. If one could control one’s ability to get hurt...
He had to stop this. To stop her talking.
“As I said at the beginning, feel free to tell me I’ve—”
“Stop.” He glanced over at her. Leaned toward her. Close enough that he could kiss her. Her lips were open as she met his gaze.
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
“That we have sex.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Though, as I said, I might change my mind when I get home and think about what I’m doing.”
“You want to do it right now, then? Right here?”
Her adorable head tilt, and her mischievous grin, almost got her her wish. “Of course not,” she said. “I think we should set a time. And it should either be in a hotel or at my place. No offense, but your house wouldn’t be a good choice for me.”
That house she’d grown up in had really done a number on her. Made him want to grab up Duane whatever his name was, put him in a dark hole in the ground and leave him there until he’d felt every bit of insecurity and terror Amelia had known growing up with him.
“That way we both have time to think about it, and if either of us changes our mind, we’re free to do so.”
She wanted him to think about having sex with her. To have a date set. To anticipate the act...
The woman was going to drive him insane.
If he wasn’t there already. “You have a date and time in mind?”
She gulped. Stared at him. And then, chin up, said, “No. I kind of thought you’d refuse.”
“Do you want me to?”
“I should want you to.”
“Do you?”
“No.”