from okay.
I follow the dog inside, and for a moment, I fool myself into thinking I can get through this without touching her, without tasting her one last time. But I can’t even move past her as she holds the door open for me.
I grab her, selfish bastard that I am, pull her full against me, crushing her breasts against my chest and gripping her ass to haul her up to my mouth. I kiss her like a criminal. Lips bruise. Teeth clash. Her fingernails rake through my hair, and I growl to keep from howling.
What wouldn’t I give for this to be the other way around? For her to be the one about to end us?
Unshed tears clog my throat, but I deepen the kiss, frantic, almost wild as the seconds bring us closer to me tearing us apart.
It takes everything I have to break away. We’re both panting. Aroused and raw. The thin silk of her gown does nothing to hide the outline of Iris’s nipples, and they beg for my mouth. My cock is an aching brick pushed against her belly.
“That felt different,” Iris says, lifting her fingertips to her lips.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. I’m such an asshole. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head and gives me a smile, but I know her so well, I see at once that it’s forced. “Should we go to bed?”
I’m not staying. I have to do this and go and never see her again. But I won’t break up with her in her kitchen. If all I can give her is her privacy, then she’ll at least have that.
Gripping her hand and memorizing the feel of it in mine, I lead us to her bedroom. I can hear Sally and Ramon’s muffled voices upstairs. I want Iris to have privacy, but I’m glad they’re here if she needs comforting.
When I close the door, silence seals us off. I look at Iris. I’ve had all day to think, and I still don’t know what to say. I don’t have the words to make this easier.
Iris grips the footboard. Even with all the shit swirling in my head, I notice with utter clarity that her knuckles are white.
“I-I screwed up, didn’t I?” she asks, her voice trembling.
I frown, edging back. “What? No.” If anyone’s to blame for how we got here, it’s me. I’m older. More experienced. I knew from the beginning it couldn’t last, and I still let it happen.
My one regret is hurting her. I wouldn’t take back anything else. Not a single moment.
“I did. I told you how I feel. I shouldn’t have,” she says in a rush. “It’s too soon. Too much.”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes. I take two steps toward her but stop myself. “It’s not. Look—” I drag a hand down my face, frustration second only to the agony edging every one of my nerve endings. I may not have the right words, but I refuse to lie to her. “It can’t be too soon or too much because I feel it too. I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
Her grip on the footboard eases. Everything about her eases. “Why didn’t you?” Her voice is soft, reminding me of her innocence. Her youth.
She is light embodied. The brightest of all suns. I’m lucky just to be in her orbit.
“Because. You might be mine to love, but you’re not mine to keep.”
Iris’s face—the most expressive I’ve ever seen—closes down, her light dimming. “What do you mean?”
“I mean what we have isn’t meant to last.” Even as I say the words, I taste their falsehood. What I feel for Iris will last. It will remain with me for the rest of my days. But I can’t tell her that. “You need to go back to California, and I need to stay here.”
“So that’s what this is about?” she asks, frowning. “Me asking you to come with me? Offering to stay? Beau, I love you. I don’t want to give this up. Do you?”
A wave of anguish breaks over me. “Of course not,” I say, but the words are hollowed out. “But—”
“Then let’s try to figure this out,” she says, eyes widening in hope. Her words rush from her, urgent and grasping. “I can take some time off. I could stay here for a while until we decide on our next move. I’m sure I could extend the lease another—”
“Hell, no.” Fear chokes me, turning the words into a growl. Stay here? Extend her