honestly. But she had no idea what else to say.
Turner seemed not to suffer from the same problem, though. When she didn’t elaborate, he continued, “I mean, twice now, you’ve made it clear you want us to get sexual, then you’ve immediately backed off in a big way. I was surprised that first time it happened—hell, I was surprised both times—but I wasn’t sure I should question it. And when I thought more about it today, I decided I wasn’t exactly averse to taking things to the next level myself.”
The entire time he spoke, Becca couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Probably because she couldn’t disagree with anything he’d said. Not about her, and not about the two of them. Before, when they’d gotten physical, Turner had been the instigator, and Becca had gone along for a little while, because, at the time and under the conditions, it had felt nice to do so. But she’d only gone along with him long enough to decide that what they were doing was a mistake.
She’d never really let herself think too hard about why she was so certain it was a mistake, though. She had enjoyed herself on those occasions. In fact, she may have enjoyed herself too much, and that had been the problem. Because she knew neither of them had ever made much of a commitment to anyone they dated. Not one that lasted longer than a few months, anyway. For something to feel so good with Turner, she’d want it to go on forever. But she hadn’t been able to convince herself that he would, too.
And as good as it had felt with Turner, there had still been something about getting physical that hadn’t been quite right. She couldn’t really describe or explain it to anyone, herself included. But something had made her stop them from having sex. Because somehow, she had known things between them weren’t the way they should be for them to make their relationship sexual. And somehow, she’d known, too, that making it sexual when things weren’t the way they should be would only mess up the great friendship that did feel right.
Oh, how did everything get so screwed up?
“Turner,” she began cautiously, forcing her gaze up to meet his again, flinching a little when she saw how coolly he was looking at her. “I wish I could give you an answer that makes sense, but I’m not sure there is one.”
He nodded slowly, but his expression changed not at all. “Okay, then tell me this. A few hours ago, you made me promise to come over here after the meeting, because you wanted us to have sex. Do you still want that?”
She owed him total honesty, Becca knew. But how could she be honest with him when she wasn’t even sure she could be honest with herself? There was one thing she did know, though. She couldn’t make love with Turner feeling the way she did right now. She was confused, uncertain and troubled. Although looking at him right now made her feel things she hadn’t before, she couldn’t imagine the two of them walking into her bedroom right now and falling into each other’s arms. It would just be too weird. And it wouldn’t feel right.
“No,” she told him honestly. “I don’t want that. Not now.”
He closed his eyes and expelled a sound that was rife with frustration.
“I’m sorry, Turner,” she exclaimed. “I know what I said… What I did…earlier,” she added, blushing when she remembered the way she had taken his hand in hers and pushed it between her legs. Even the memory sent a wave of heat splashing through her midsection. “But I’ve had time to think since then, and now I’m just not sure it would be a good idea.”
“And Wednesday night?” he asked, opening his eyes to meet her gaze levelly. “Is that what happened then? You came home and thought about it and decided we shouldn’t go through with it?”
Actually, Becca couldn’t remember doing much thinking about it Wednesday night. She recalled coming home and taking a bath and going to bed, feeling aroused and unsatisfied the whole time, and she recalled thinking extremely lusty and graphic thoughts about Turner, and she recalled a longer-than-usual session with her vibrator. Not once Wednesday evening had she had second thoughts about wanting him. It hadn’t been until Thursday morning that she’d decided her behavior had been unwarranted and unwise—and that had come about after just one look at Turner,