Act Your Age, Eve Brown (The Brown Sisters #3) - Talia Hibbert Page 0,76

don’t want to sleep with you again, right?”

Ah. “Well, yes, I did know that, but I more meant that we shouldn’t sleep together, not that I don’t want to.”

Eve bit her lip, pulling the covers over her chest as she sat up. “Oh. Okay. Well . . . yeah. Honestly, you’re probably right. I mean—” She laughed, though the usual sparkle in her eyes was absent. “Why did we even do this? It’s not like we could date.”

Those words really shouldn’t feel like a punch to the gut, but Jacob was apparently ridiculous over this woman, so they did.

“Right,” he said awkwardly, when what he wanted to ask was, Why? Why couldn’t we date? Am I so unsuitable? Or are you thinking of the problems I’m thinking of? Or—

Didn’t matter. Couldn’t ask. If she said something all sweet and brilliant and overwhelmingly Eve, he might throw caution to the wind and do whatever it took to make her his . . . person. And she couldn’t be his person because his people didn’t last.

“Well. Then we’re in agreement,” he managed. “The trouble is, whether we agree on this or not, we will probably continue to be attracted to each other.” He was impressed with himself for making such an understatement with a serious face. “And we spend so much time around each other, mistakes might easily be made.” Even as he said the words, a solution presented itself, glaringly obvious and wonderfully convenient. “But,” he said slowly, his mind still whirring, “there’s an easy way to reduce the risk.” An easy way to put you out of my reach, at least some of the time.

“Is there?” She arched an eyebrow, yet he couldn’t shake the impression that all her expressions were less full of life than usual, a little more mechanic.

Of course, that couldn’t be the case. Because if something was wrong with Eve, she’d just—well, she’d say. She always said. She was beautifully blunt, even now, during the most awkward conversation they’d ever had. So it was probably wishful thinking on his part, his mind searching for evidence that she was dying inside, just like him.

Which she obviously wasn’t, because it was insensible for Jacob to feel this way and no reasonable person should. Not after so little time and so little encouragement. For God’s sake, this time last week they’d hated each other.

“Go on, then,” she said, her voice strangely sharp. Irritated with him already, no doubt. “Give me this mystical solution.”

He cleared his throat. “Well—we agreed, last week, that you couldn’t stay here forever.” Then she’d charmed him so thoroughly that he’d forgotten to mind the fact she was sleeping in his sitting room. But he certainly minded now. For entirely different reasons. “Perhaps the best thing is for you to move out. I—I have alternative accommodations in mind.” Or rather, he did as of ten seconds ago. “We could go and take a look on . . .” He flicked through his mental diary, the pieces of this half-arsed plan flying together because he was that desperate to avoid temptation. “Thursday. No check-ins on Thursday. We could make that our house-hunting day.”

There: that meant he’d only have to live beside her, to know she was in here alone at night with nothing but the toy he’d used to make her come, for another four days.

Dear God, it was going to be hell.

“Fine,” Eve said after a moment’s pause. “Fine. Yes. Thursday. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes. Thursday. Good.” He forced the words out of his throat.

She lifted her chin. “Good.”

His eyes caught on her mouth, and he remembered the moment he’d kissed her, and he wanted to relive it again and again and again for the rest of his life.

“I should go,” he said stiffly.

She didn’t stop him.

* * *

Eve held her breath and counted to ten. The door clicked shut behind Jacob before she’d hit four, because he wasn’t the long, lingering-looks sort, and even if he was, he wouldn’t have given them to her.

Sigh.

She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, because it didn’t. Or rather, it shouldn’t. She barely knew the man, and she wasn’t permitted to have him. He was a bad choice, of course he was: her employer. Her temporary employer. A high-handed, frosty, impossible man who’d probably end up married to someone severe and put together and dear God, why the bloody hell was Eve thinking about marriage right now? The point was, sleeping with Jacob had been one of