“Ah, so you’re one of those people.” She cocked her head. “Personal desire trumps responsibility, because carpe diem or insert other meaningless Instagram quote here.”
“Wow, was that some actual cynicism from Little Miss Sunshine?”
Audrey blinked. “I’m not cynical at all. Quite the contrary—and I believe in the importance of what I do and the sacrifices I make. Which is all the more reason to avoid selfishness thinly veiled as a motivational quote.”
“You’re very motivated by the present.”
“Isn’t the here and now the only thing we know for sure?” she asked. “I understand the whole brain-filter GPS thing, but surely focusing too much on the future isn’t productive.”
“It has to be a balance,” Ronan admitted. “But understanding where you want to go will give you a much higher chance of getting there in the future. There’s nothing selfish about wanting, Audrey. It’s a fundamentally human thing.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to want things you can’t have?” Her lashes lowered for a moment, exposing the shimmery particles on her lids once more. They glimmered when she blinked, luring him closer.
“I guess it comes down to the reason you think you can’t have it,” he said. Were they even talking about brain filters and visualization anymore? Ronan had no idea.
All he wanted to know was what Audrey saw in the bedroom…or rather, who?
“Sometimes there’s a barrier to what you want. But then the barrier is removed, and I guess it’s unclear if there are more barriers or not,” she said quietly.
Ronan’s breath stilled in his lungs. Audrey had been on his mind from the second he’d walked into her café, and her hold on him had only grown stronger. It was like a fist continuing to tighten around him, the pressure building and building.
The library was quieter now. It was verging on dinnertime, and many of the students who lived on campus would be heading toward the main hall for their meal. Or maybe they’d ventured out into the town, seeking out something different. Only the most die-hard students remained, dotting the space so quietly you’d be forgiven for thinking there was no one there at all.
“What possible barriers might there still be?” he asked. He was leaning one arm on the table, his body craned toward her, and she faced him, legs tucked under her chair and hair tumbling over one shoulder.
She had on a pretty tank top thing with lace around the bottom and thin straps that left most of her shoulders free. One of the straps had veered toward the edge of her shoulder, the delicate piece of fabric less than an inch away from sliding down her arm.
“Personal barriers,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Such as?”
She sucked on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Mutual attraction.”
“That’s not a barrier, trust me.” His nostrils flared for a second. God, how could she even question that? With all the reasons in the world not to touch her, he still kissed her like his life depended on it that night in the car. “That’s squarely in the pro column.”
“Age?”
“Is that a barrier for you?” To him, eight years didn’t mean anything.
She shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
“What else have you got?”
Were they really doing this? Negotiating. Maybe it wasn’t that; maybe it was more like due diligence. Sexy, hot-under-the-collar, fueled-by-tension due diligence.
“Reputation?”
“You’re no longer my student,” he said huskily. “And you’re not my employee, either. You made that clear.”
She nodded her head. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that might upset your career.”
“People will talk, though. Isn’t that the way of small-town life?”
“Not if we keep it under wraps.” She looked at him hopefully. “I mean, this isn’t…”
Real? To him it felt real, in a way. After all, if he only wanted sex, then that wasn’t too hard to acquire. It certainly wasn’t something that warranted a discussion about reputation and barriers and whatnot. But that’s because Ronan wasn’t simply after sex. He wanted Audrey, specifically. Completely.
“I’m not looking for forever,” she said with a nod. “No matter what the visualization showed me.”
He wasn’t going to push it, partially because that wasn’t what he wanted, either. He’d come to Kissing Creek with a goal—be closer to his family, write his book, spend the year figuring out the next step. Audrey was tied to this place. He didn’t want to be tied to anything.
“That’s not what I want, either.”
“What do you want, Ronan?” Her lips parted, and he had to restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss her. “Because you’re