took a loud sip. “I feel very southern right now.”
I smiled, thinking of just how different his everyday life must be, living here by me. “Do you miss it?” I asked. “Your other house? Do you miss the space and everything?”
“No.”
“Really? You don’t miss the cleaning service or the cook?”
“I get to cook with you most nights. What’s to miss?”
I gave him a look.
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Libby. This life that I’m trying to live here, beside you, is so different from the life I live anywhere else.”
“And that’s… a good thing?” It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand it. I was of the opinion that this life was way better for him than the life he’d been living, but it surprised me that he recognized that. I still expected him to crave the busyness, the screaming fans, the fancy hotels.
His lips curled in amusement. “Yeah.”
“So you’re not using my living room as an office because you don’t have room in your own place?”
He gave me an are-you-crazy face. “What? No. Is that what you think? That I’m using you for your space?”
“No, I just can’t imagine that my griping and moaning is all that conducive to your creative process.”
“Do I need to get out of your hair more?” He wasn’t teasing. He looked uncertain, really wanting to know.
“No. Having you there…” How could I phrase this? “The company is good for me, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to be there.”
He was quiet, looking out at the sun setting behind our privacy wall. After several long moments he looked down at his glass of iced tea. “I like being here. It feels like a home. My place in Newburgh never felt like anything more than a house.” He glanced over at me, his smile relaxed, open, honest. “And I like being around you, knowing that you’re okay. Knowing when you’re not okay,” he conceded with a nod.
His words took me by surprise, making my throat feel tight. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “Yeah, me too.”
We lapsed into silence and watched the sun set.
♪♫♪
I had my coffee thermos and my purse in hand, ready to rush out the door when Sean let himself in the back door.
“Sorry, I have to get to work early today.”
He closed the back door and quickly jogged ahead of me so that he could open the front door for me. He stepped aside and held the door as I tried not to let my hurried step turn into a waddle.
“I’ll see you this evening.” I paused as I passed him, lifting up on my toes to peck him on the mouth.
It was his stunned expression that made me realize what I had just done.
I’d just kissed him, as if I’d done it a thousand times before. But it wasn’t normal; it was anything but normal.
I pulled back and slapped a hand over my mouth, looking at his shocked face, which no doubt mirrored my own. “I am so sorry.” I shook my head, trying to get it on straight again. “I didn’t mean to do that. It—it was just…habit…muscle memory.”
“Yeah,” he said in a tone heavy with confusion. “Yeah, of course.” He cleared his throat. “Just part of the routine, right?”
“Yes. Exactly. I’ll see you later.” I left, deciding that fleeing from the awkward was the best course of action.
I tried to shake off the incident, tried to brush it away as a silly little mishap, something forgettable. It should be forgettable, right? Except that it wasn’t. It wasn’t forgettable at all. It was the opposite of forgettable. It kept playing in my head. And each time it did, it seemed to mean more than the time before.
Kissing Sean had been the most natural thing in the world. Just as natural as kissing Jonas goodbye. And that was…wrong….right? That should be wrong. It felt wrong. It felt like betrayal and like I was forgetting my husband—replacing him. I didn’t want to replace him. I didn’t want Sean.
I didn’t want Sean.
I didn’t.
I shouted that phrase in my head each time the barely-kiss played in my head, and each time I believed it less.
But I couldn’t want him. Not when I knew he still had feelings for me. I couldn’t have a crush on him. That would just confuse my life. That would ruin our friendship. Because if I toyed with that idea….if I allowed us to become something more and then we came apart…