didn't want to hear. “Don't.” She inhaled and it was a shaky breath. “I know. I should have said this when you first came in. Now we're going to be awkward and you're going to find some excuse to leave, sooner rather than later. I know .”
He framed her face with his hands, his was contorting into a mask of anger. “You're going to make me the bad guy.”
Those simple words confirmed what she knew. If it were possible to feel every cell in her body stop, that moment was it. They were naked, but even if clothed she'd never felt more vulnerable. “Just don't be Drew when you break it off.”
“Yvonne...”
She kept letting her fingers roam. She couldn't stop, especially knowing he was working his way up to being the guy who broke up with a woman after dropping the “L” word.
“You're petting me,” he said, stating the obvious.
Her smirk was bitter. “Copping a feel while I can.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and laughed softly. “Stop being charming.”
If she dropped the mask, she'd start crying and there was no way they could come back from that. “Just go. I'll call you when you I sell the ring. Deposit the money in your bank account.” That shaky breath turned into a full body shudder. “Just go.”
He murmured, his breath brushing her cheek. “I don't want to.”
Her carpet was starting to bite into all her bare parts and it had to be eating his knees. “Don't humor me, because you don't want to be a dick.” Anger pooled in her stomach, wrenching it tight. “Get off me.”
He pulled back, giving her the room she needed. “That's not what I was doing.”
She'd sat up and he was still right there in her space. She could smell the scent of them in the air. This was messy. As messy as one could get. The last thing she needed was for her heart to spill from her mouth. He hadn't lied to her, but finally one man had made her wish that he could change, that she could change how he felt about love.
Her face screwed up as tears stung her eyes. Not wanting him to see, she turned her back to him and put more space between them. “Go.”
She rose from the floor and didn't bother to cover herself. He'd touched it all, seen it all. She definitely wasn't modest after all those years of dancing and being critiqued as though she was a piece of meat. And covering herself would mean hiding from what had just happened. She couldn't. They couldn't.
His heavy breath was the only thing to fill the silence. She plopped on her couch and grabbed her favorite pillow. He didn't speak again until he was fully clothed.
“Yvonne...” His tone wasn't a plea and anger still filled it. As though she'd screwed up. Messed up whatever the hell they had had. “I don't want to go.”
He kept saying that, but he didn't mean it. What he really meant was he didn't want to leave with things sour between them. He didn't want to be that guy, the one who slept with women and left them. No. No . He didn't want to be the man who put his heart out there again.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Are you falling for me?”
He frowned as though he had to think about his answer. “How can you ask me that?”
How could he just stand there calm about this? They'd screwed up. “Easy.”
He drew a hand down his face and sighed. “That's not what we are.”
She fisted her hands in the pillows. “Then what are we?”
“Not that,” he said with a certainty that hurt.
“What? Say it. Say the words, Greg,” Yvonne pushed and then scoffed because she knew he wouldn't. “Like I said, I'll call you when I make the sale. The people I contacted are chomping at the bit. So it should be soon.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and didn't move for a long while. “Fine,” he finally said and left.
Her skin prickled. She hadn't even felt the wet and cold he'd brought in from the rain, but now she could. Yvonne sprawled on her couch, naked as the day she was born and smooshed her face into the pillow. Doing anything
He framed her face with his hands, his was contorting into a mask of anger. “You're going to make me the bad guy.”
Those simple words confirmed what she knew. If it were possible to feel every cell in her body stop, that moment was it. They were naked, but even if clothed she'd never felt more vulnerable. “Just don't be Drew when you break it off.”
“Yvonne...”
She kept letting her fingers roam. She couldn't stop, especially knowing he was working his way up to being the guy who broke up with a woman after dropping the “L” word.
“You're petting me,” he said, stating the obvious.
Her smirk was bitter. “Copping a feel while I can.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and laughed softly. “Stop being charming.”
If she dropped the mask, she'd start crying and there was no way they could come back from that. “Just go. I'll call you when you I sell the ring. Deposit the money in your bank account.” That shaky breath turned into a full body shudder. “Just go.”
He murmured, his breath brushing her cheek. “I don't want to.”
Her carpet was starting to bite into all her bare parts and it had to be eating his knees. “Don't humor me, because you don't want to be a dick.” Anger pooled in her stomach, wrenching it tight. “Get off me.”
He pulled back, giving her the room she needed. “That's not what I was doing.”
She'd sat up and he was still right there in her space. She could smell the scent of them in the air. This was messy. As messy as one could get. The last thing she needed was for her heart to spill from her mouth. He hadn't lied to her, but finally one man had made her wish that he could change, that she could change how he felt about love.
Her face screwed up as tears stung her eyes. Not wanting him to see, she turned her back to him and put more space between them. “Go.”
She rose from the floor and didn't bother to cover herself. He'd touched it all, seen it all. She definitely wasn't modest after all those years of dancing and being critiqued as though she was a piece of meat. And covering herself would mean hiding from what had just happened. She couldn't. They couldn't.
His heavy breath was the only thing to fill the silence. She plopped on her couch and grabbed her favorite pillow. He didn't speak again until he was fully clothed.
“Yvonne...” His tone wasn't a plea and anger still filled it. As though she'd screwed up. Messed up whatever the hell they had had. “I don't want to go.”
He kept saying that, but he didn't mean it. What he really meant was he didn't want to leave with things sour between them. He didn't want to be that guy, the one who slept with women and left them. No. No . He didn't want to be the man who put his heart out there again.
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Are you falling for me?”
He frowned as though he had to think about his answer. “How can you ask me that?”
How could he just stand there calm about this? They'd screwed up. “Easy.”
He drew a hand down his face and sighed. “That's not what we are.”
She fisted her hands in the pillows. “Then what are we?”
“Not that,” he said with a certainty that hurt.
“What? Say it. Say the words, Greg,” Yvonne pushed and then scoffed because she knew he wouldn't. “Like I said, I'll call you when I make the sale. The people I contacted are chomping at the bit. So it should be soon.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and didn't move for a long while. “Fine,” he finally said and left.
Her skin prickled. She hadn't even felt the wet and cold he'd brought in from the rain, but now she could. Yvonne sprawled on her couch, naked as the day she was born and smooshed her face into the pillow. Doing anything
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