“We can’t have that,” I said, carrying my plate toward the front porch.
“I made myself one, too. I’ll be right out,” she called.
I took my seat at the table, feeling sad. A limousine was coming before dawn to whisk me away to the airport. And by the end of tomorrow, I’d be back in my Seattle apartment. Back to the demands of a record label. The recording dates, the business meals, the A-list parties, and exclusive restaurants that had almost begun to seem ordinary.
My life in Seattle was never dull. But it never felt like mine. The end of a work day never brought the promise of a warm glance from a familiar face, and a meal thoughtfully prepared by someone who’d been expecting me.
Back in June, I’d wandered into this store in search of food. But truly, it was a different kind of sustenance that Kira gave me. God, I knew I was going to miss it.
We ate together that night. The lobster rolls she’d made were delicious, and we washed the food down with my favorite Maine beer. But our walk home later was sad and strained.
“Stop here a second, would you?” I asked when we approached my door at Mrs. Wetzle’s. “I want to give you my phone number.” I unlocked my door for the last time and stepped into my little room.
Kira followed me, closing the door against mosquitoes.
“Here.” I grabbed a fine-tipped sharpie off the desk, the kind I often carried in my pockets in Seattle, for signing autographs. “Give me your hand.”
She raised it, and I wrote my cell phone number on the edge of her palm.
“Oh my God, that tickles,” she said, just the same way the groupies always did.
Carefully, I wrote out the digits of my number. On groupies’ hands, I always signed my name. If the girl was especially hot, I might add my hotel room number. I shoved these thoughts out of my head and capped my pen. “It will be weird having cell phone service again.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. Then she stared at me, and we endured our only awkward silence of the entire summer.
“What?” I finally whispered.
Her gaze became shifty. “Actually, I have the weirdest favor to ask.” She cleared her throat, and then began speaking rapidly. “You can totally say no. I won’t be even a little bit offended. Actually, I feel bad asking, because I know you were staying away from women as, like, a personal challenge. And you might decide to ask your ex to take you back…”
Even with that clue, I had no idea what she was about to say.
“…and you may not be attracted to me at all. But since you’re leaving anyway, I thought I’d ask, so here goes. I wondered if you would…” She lost some of her nerve, and asked the rest of the question to her shoes. “…make love to me? Just as a favor. Because I’ve read that after a—” She cleared her throat. “Well, to try it again, you’re supposed to be with someone who makes you feel really safe.”
To say that her request blew my mind was a serious understatement. I was so startled that I had to replay her words in my head just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood.
Kira wanted to have sex with me?
Before I could answer, a new shower of mortified words began to rush out. “I’m sorry. This is totally embarrassing,” she gasped. “That’s why I waited this long to ask you. And you haven’t ever tried… But that’s part of the reason I asked, honestly. I trust you. You haven’t spent the summer trying to get into my pants. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Kira…”
“God, you must think I’m insane.”
“Kira…”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Kira,” I repeated, my mind reeling. “Stop apologizing.”
“Okay. I’m going to go now.” She bolted toward the door.
“Wait!” I lunged, catching her hand. “Come here,” I choked out. She was still leaning toward the door, so I stepped in front of her and wrapped her into a hug. “You can be sure that I wanted to.”
“What?” she asked against my shoulder.
“I wanted to get you out of your clothes. But I didn’t try.”
“Why?”
“Because I was using self-control for the first time in my whole damned life.” And after last night’s revelation, I was ridiculously glad. Any other time in my life, I would have tried to get her naked right away. But I hadn’t done that, and by happenstance, I’d helped an amazing person feel a little bit better.
“So you won’t do it?” Her voice cracked. “I should never have asked. I just made everything weird, didn’t I?”
I stood very still, wracked by indecision. And—let’s face it—lust. Merely holding her against me was making me crazy. It was all too easy to picture myself removing Kira’s clothes item by item. And then laying her down on the bed—
Jesus. Too tempting by half. But I’d spent the whole summer trying not to think with my dick, and I didn’t want to start now.
I sighed. “I don’t know, sweetness. You might regret it. Your high school guy is coming back from the army. He should be your safe person.”
She pulled out of my embrace. “You’d think. But I haven’t seen him in two years, so it’s not business as usual. And I’m afraid he’s going to come back with his own set of issues. All of the guys returning from the Middle East do. And then if I also have issues…” She swallowed. “Before I potentially get into that position with him, I want to know if it’s something I can actually do. I’ve thought about all of this. So many times. And you and I… It’s just so easy between us. That’s how I got this crazy idea in the first place.”
“It’s not crazy,” I whispered, reaching for her again. God knows I’d indulged in the fantasy a few times already. I’d always felt vaguely guilty afterwards.
She cleared her throat. “It was wrong of me, though, to ask you to stomach it. Maybe touching someone who’s been…” She shuddered. “I mean, I went to the hospital… He wore a condom. They got no DNA. I got tested, too. But it was an icky thing to ask you to do.”
“Hey.” My gut gave a twist, and I reached up to take her face in my hands. “That is not true.” I kissed her forehead. “You are dead sexy. And I practically had to duct tape my hands together all summer to stop myself from showing you how true that is.”
Her eyes were sad when she looked up at me. “I wish I believed you.”
“Hell.” My pulse already felt thready, and my head spun with uncertainty. “Kira, are you sure you’re ready to try? Because if you’re not… It won’t be fun for you.” And it wouldn’t be fun for me, either. No matter that I’d spent the summer staring at those long, tanned legs. If she cried in my bed, I would feel terrible.
Her gaze was level. “Everybody is different. But it’s been almost a year. And sometimes when I can hear your guitar at night, I can’t sleep.”
“Oh.” I grinned to cover up the pain she’d just inflicted in me. “So you’re attracted to my guitar playing.” Didn’t that just figure.
“No. I can hardly hear it. But I know you’re awake, and I can picture your hands on the strings. And then I picture them on me. That’s how I know I’m finally feeling better. Because the idea of it makes me want to…”