Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,91

know, like the night wasn’t done. Ask me about a stupid sports thing.”

“What if I’m not in the mood to talk about sports?”

“Well, then, what good are you, Adam? You are my go-to for sports conversations that I don’t want to be in.”

“Right now you seem to want to be in the conversation, so that defeats the purpose of me harassing you with it.”

“How’s your sports team?” she asked.

He let out a slow breath and walked out of the center of the dining room, around to the back of the counter. She didn’t know why, but she felt like she had just lost ground. She didn’t even know what ground she was thinking of.

“Which one?” He was in his preferred position now, his usual position. Him on one side and her on the other, but everything still felt wrong.

“I don’t know.” She flung out her arms. “The ones playing right now.”

“I haven’t been watching sports. I haven’t been able to concentrate.”

“Oh.”

He sighed heavily. “What’s going on, Rachel?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t know. I—I had a nice time on my date. I was nervous to go out, and... You know, I realize that I didn’t care who it was with. Going to dinner with him felt like going to dinner with an old friend, and it was nice. But... I didn’t want to kiss him. And maybe that’s the thing. Maybe I’ll never want to kiss anyone. That’s a relief, actually, because I was afraid I’d have to do this whole thing. And I guess I don’t have to.”

Silence ticked by, seconds that she counted. And suddenly, she felt very aware of her mouth. Suddenly, she became very aware of that he was looking at her mouth.

She looked away. “Maybe that’s the thing. I wanted to rush this, to see if I was going to be the kind of person who needed it, or if I would be happy alone forever. It was the suspense I couldn’t take. And now I know. It was nothing. And I was fine with it.”

“There you go,” he said. “I guess you had the answers all along.”

He was dismissing her. And she felt flat and strange. And very silly. She wished she could go back and decide not to come here. Or even just go back and say about half the words she’d said tonight, because she’d just said too many things, and not enough of them had made sense.

“Yeah. I guess so.” She didn’t have answers. Not even one. She felt hollowed out and awful and like she wanted to cry.

But it was clear that he wanted her to go, and she wasn’t going to stay if he was ready to leave. If he wanted her gone.

“Good night, Adam,” she said. “I... I’ll see you. I’ll see you...soon.”

“The door locked behind you when you came in, I’m going to have to let you out.”

“Oh,” she said.

She lingered where she stood for a moment while Adam came out from behind the counter and pressed a code that she assumed disarmed something. Then he pushed his key into the lock and turned it, releasing the door. And he stood and wedged it open, his arm pressed across the door and his body positioned right at the entryway, like an imposing sentry.

She took a breath, and consciously realized she was holding it to avoid breathing in his aftershave again. Because it made her stomach feel funny.

She started to move past him, and suddenly, he caught her arm, holding her there between his body and the door. His blue eyes were intense, and she felt it then. All the way through. The danger. And she wondered how she had ever thought that he was anything quite as bland as safe.

“Just a second,” he said, his voice rough.

And he leaned in and captured her mouth with his.

Heat flooded her entire body, heat and desire and intense, undeniable need.

It was like being caught up in a wave, being pushed under the surface so far she couldn’t tell which end was up. Couldn’t seem to find her way to air. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Because as it went on, she started to wonder if he was air.

He pulled away from her and she whimpered. She wanted to cry because it was over. Because she had to think again, and she didn’t want to.

“I just wanted to be the first one,” he said, his voice rough. “Because you’re going to be ready, someday. And somebody already