“So there’s a bit of lusty curiosity as well. That’s not a surprise, is it? We’re adults, we’re human, and in the strangest of situations. We had a quick, hot tangle, and that’s the end of it.”
He nodded as if considering her point. “I wouldn’t argue with that either, but for one thing.”
“What one thing?”
He shifted so quickly from his easy slouch she didn’t have an instant to prepare. He had her scooped up, shifted as well, and his mouth on hers.
Another hot tangle, fast and deep and deadly to the senses. Some part of her mind said to give him a punch and set things right, but the rest of her was too busy devouring what he gave her.
Then he tugged on her braid—an old, affectionate gesture, so their lips parted, their faces stayed close. So close the eyes she knew as well as her own took on deeper, darker hues of green with little shimmers of gold scattered through.
“That one thing.”
“It’s just . . .” She moved in this time, couldn’t resist, and felt his heart race against hers. “Physicality.”
“Is it?”
“It is.” She made herself pull back, then stand—a bit safer, she thought, with some distance. “And more, Connor, we need to think, the both of us need to think. It’s friends we are, and always have been. And now part of a circle that can’t be risked.”
“What’s the risk?”
“We have sex—”
“A grand idea. I’m for it.”
Though she shook her head, she had to laugh with it. “You’d be for it on an hourly basis. But it’s you and me now, and with you and me what if there are complications, and the kind of tensions that can happen, that do happen, when sex comes through the door?”
“Done well, sex relieves the tensions.”
“For a bit.” Though just now the thought of it, with him, brought on plenty. “But we might cause more—for each other, for the others when we can least afford it. We need to keep ourselves focused on what’s to be done, and k
eep the personal complications away from it as much as we can.”
Easy as ever, he picked up his beer to finish it off. “That’s your busy brain, always thinking what’s next and not letting the rest of you have the moment.”
“A moment passes into the next.”
“Exactly. So if you don’t enjoy it before it does, what’s the point of it all?”
“The point is seeing clear, and being ready for the next—and the next after it. And we need to think about all of this, and carefully. We can’t just jump into bed because we both have an itch. I care about you, and all the others too much for that.”
“There’s nothing you can do, not anything, that could shake my friendship. Not even saying no on this when I want you to say yes more than . . . well, more than I might want.”
He stood as well. “So we’ll both think on it, give it all a little time and see how we feel.”
“That’s the best, isn’t it? It’s just a matter of taking time to cool it down, think clear so we’re not leaping into an impulse we could regret. We’re both smart and steady enough to do that.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
He offered a hand to seal the deal. Meara took it, shook.
Then they both simply stood, neither backing away, moving forward, or letting go.
“Ah hell. We’re not going to think at all, are we?”
He only grinned. “Not tonight.”
They leaped at each other.