I’m worried about her, and worry isn’t really part of my vocabulary. For so long, I’ve lived in a world of complete and utter selfishness. I haven’t had to worry about a woman because I haven’t allowed myself to. I don’t get involved in romantic entanglements. Instead, I fuck and move on. It’s an understanding I make with each woman before I take her to bed, and I’ve been getting along just fine this way.
I still don’t know what it is about Sylvie that has me hooked. We haven’t even slept together.
But when I saw her face pale before she bolted out the door, my heart went out that door with her. Whatever this is that’s forming between the two of us, it’s stronger than me.
We walk back to Pink Agave and slide into my luxury rental BMW. “Where to?” I ask.
“Take a left,” she says, leaning back and resting her head against the seat. She closes her eyes.
“Don’t fall asleep on me. I don’t know where you live.” I regret the words the second they’re out of my mouth—if she falls asleep, I can take her back to my hotel.
But I don’t want her like this. She’s not available right now, and it’s not right for me to even think about tempting her into something she’ll regret.
When I have her, I want all of her, and I want it without any sort of restriction or reservation.
She clears her throat and opens her eyes. She sits up a little straighter. “Right. I’m sorry. Keep going straight here.”
“Are you ready to tell me what happened back there?”
“I, uh, just got really dizzy all of a sudden. Too much tequila, I think.”
“You think?”
“No,” she says.
“I didn’t think so.”
“I don’t want to want you,” she says so softly that I almost miss it.
I draw in a sharp breath of surprise. I knew tonight was going well, knew I was connecting with her on a different level aside from raw attraction, but I didn’t realize she felt it, too.
“I don’t want to want you, either,” I say. “But there are certain things in this world we’re not meant to fight.”
“I could say that about William, too,” she says.
“Do you think that’s true?”
“That I shouldn’t fight against my relationship with him?”
I nod, careful to keep my eyes forward on the road so as not to crowd her even though I’m desperate for more from her.
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “If you would’ve asked me that a few weeks ago, I would have known the answer immediately.”
“And now you don’t?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.”
“You.” She says it so simply, yet the single word is packed with conviction. “Turn right at the next street.”
“So what are you going to do?”
She doesn’t answer right away. “Left at the light.”
“You’re going to go left at the light?”
She chuckles. “No. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She sighs. “You know how you’re afraid to tell your dad you don’t want to run King?”
I nod.
“Well, I’m afraid to veer from the course I’ve carefully plotted for my life. This is just an attraction, Carson. That’s all. We’ll both get over it.”
“I can’t say I agree.”
“I feel guilty that I’m even attracted to you, let alone having the thoughts that have been running through my head tonight.”
“What thoughts?” I prod.
I feel her eyes on me, but I continue to keep my eyes intent on the road.
“Those are between me and my traitorous brain.”
“I like your traitorous brain.”
“I’m not sure William would agree.”
“Fuck William.”
She laughs.
“No, wait. I didn’t mean that. Don’t fuck William. Or if you do, don’t tell me about it.”
“I’m not going to—not tonight, anyway—and I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. It’s not your business what I do with my boyfriend.”
“You know, cupcake, just when I think we’re turning a corner and sharing some honesty, you go and say something like that.”
“And you go and call me cupcake again. Turn right up there.” She points.
I turn, and it feels like we’re getting close. We’re in a residential area now. I feel our night closing in on me, and suddenly it feels a little harder to breathe. I had no idea all this shit was going to be so damn hard.
“I’m the fourth house on the left.”
It’s a big home in a nice neighborhood. It’s hard to see her house in the dark, but it looks like a standard Mediterranean-style California home. It feels so spacious compared to what I’m used to in New York. I own an apartment in Midtown, and while it’s definitely spacious by New York standards, it’s still an apartment—not a home—that I paid a fuckload of money for.
I’m starting to get to the point in my life where I don’t want to live in an apartment. I don’t want neighbors who live above me, below me, and on either side of me. I want space.
I’ve never wanted space before.
I want space I can share with someone.
I’ve never wanted to share space with anyone.
I want space, and I want Sylvie. I want to share space with Sylvie.
What the fuck is happening to me?
I pull into her driveway. There’s a light on in the house.
“Does William live here?” I ask.
“We both do.”
“I hate dropping you off to him.”
“Then don’t think of it that way.”
I press my lips together and stare out the windshield at the light inside. He’s in there waiting for her, and I’m leaving empty-handed. It’s just as it should be, yet it’s completely wrong. “Hard not to.”
“Thanks for the ride.”
“I’ll arrange to have your car dropped off if you leave me your keys.”
“That’s not necessary. I can get it tomorrow.”
I think about offering to help her get it in the morning, but I shouldn’t. Her boyfriend can help her, just as he should. Besides, I actually do have some work to do as long as I’m here in town.
“Thanks again for dinner,” she says.
“I’d love to take you out to dinner again.”
“I know, and I’d love to go, but I don’t think it would be right.”
“I understand.”
She moves to open the door. “Have a good night, Carson.”
“You too. If you change your mind, I’m in room thirty-eight twenty-seven at the Manchester Grand Hyatt.”
She giggles before she gets out and shuts the door.
I feel like I’m lying down and accepting my fate, but I don’t know what else to do. Clearly Sylvie is already confused, and I won’t push her into something she isn’t ready for.
I’ll just wait.