Heart And Soul (Angel Sands 8)

He inclined his head at the lobby. “You going up?”

She nodded. He pushed the door open, holding it for her as she passed him. The warm notes of his shampoo twisted in her airways. Swallowing hard, she walked over to her mailbox, unlocking it and pulling out the brochures and junk mail from inside. Her cheeks were blazing, her breathing uneven. Why was this so weird? The memory of that kiss weighed down her shoulders, making her muscles ache. And still her nerves tingled because they wanted it again.

Wanted him again.

There was a postcard among the junk. She lifted it up, looking at the image of two guys standing next to a llama in front of tall, green mountains. The sky was blue, peppered with wispy clouds that seemed to circle around the peaks.

“That’s Kevin and Grant.” Rich’s voice was close. She could feel the warmth radiating from him as he leaned over her shoulder. “I got my postcard yesterday.”

She turned it over.

Bringing this one home with us. Do you think she’ll fit in the elevator? Kevin and Grant xx

Meghan smiled. “It was sweet of them to send us one.”

“They’re good people. You’ll like them when you meet them.” His eyes caught hers.

“When are they coming back again?”

“In a month or so, I think. They saved up for years for this vacation. They’re both freelancers. Kevin writes music for jingles and Grant’s a photographer. So they don’t have a strict deadline to come back for.”

She looked at the postcard again. They had such lovely faces, both grinning like loons as the fluffy llama peered between their shoulders.

“They’ll love Isla,” he told her, then looked around. “Where is she anyway?”

“With my parents for the weekend. I just dropped her off.”

She could feel the tension wafting off him. Had she said the wrong thing?

Locking her mailbox, she slid the envelopes into her purse and followed him into the waiting elevator, stepping back against the rail to put some space between them.

He pressed the tenth floor button and the doors slid closed. He looked as awkward as she felt, his gym bag at his feet as he leaned against the side elevator wall. His head tipped back, his jaw razor sharp, as he glanced around the car, his eyelashes sweeping down as he blinked.

Meghan fixed her eyes on a tarnished piece of handrail, counting down in her mind as they passed each floor. When they reached the tenth and the doors slid open, she let out a lungful of air, walking past him into the lobby, her arm brushing his.

Rifling in her purse for her keys, she turned to look at him. Rich stood outside the elevator, the doors closing behind him as he stared at her, his lips parted as though he was trying to say something.

She pulled her lip between her teeth. How did things become this awkward?

You kissed him and almost came against your apartment door. That’s how.

“Well, goodnigh—”

“Can we talk?” He frowned at their clash of words, lifting his hand to brush his hair back from his brow. “If you have time that is?”

“I have time.” She’d do pretty much anything to get rid of this awkwardness that had been in the air for weeks now. Unlocking her door, she held it open for him to walk inside.

His eyes grazed over the door where he’d kissed her. There was a a little tic in his jaw, dancing where it met his cheek.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I won’t stay. I just wanted to say…” He sighed, dropping his bag on the floor. “I hate this weirdness between us. I’m sorry that I messed things up.”

“I hate it, too,” she admitted, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

He took a deep breath, the corner of his lip curling up. “I shouldn’t have kissed you that night. It was wrong and I made it worse by running when we should have talked about it.” He cleared his throat. “I should have said something then, cleared the air. All I want is for things to be normal again.”

“I want that, too,” she said softly.