Mm, that feels good.

It’s a bit weird of me to admit it, but this is something new for me. Usually, most guys are gone before I wake up; and, in the case they decide to overstay their welcome, I just kick them out of the bed with a smile.

But waking up with Kirk by my side, his naked chest pressed against my back… his cock against my ass, trapped right between my cheeks… Oh, now this is how every woman in the world should wake up.

Smiling to myself, I jut my ass back, pressing it against his cock. He runs one hand down the side of my body as I do it, and I feel his warm breath against the naked skin of my neck. Taking his hand to my neck, he brushes my hair aside and then reaches for me; when he finally brushes his lips against my neck, I have to purse my lips to stop myself from moaning. Jesus, forget all about breakfast… Waking up with him by my side, that’s all I need to start my day with a nice big smile.

“Mm, g’morning," I purr, but I do it so subtly that I doubt he even heard me. I stay there, laying against him as he kisses my neck, and I start feeling terribly self-conscious. What am I supposed to do here? Turn to him and kiss him? Cuddle? This is the morning after we’re talking about, which is almost unexplored territory.

Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m actually considering cuddling with a guy as if he were my boyfriend. Emily, Emily… You’re turning into a fine young woman. Soon enough I’ll be able to call myself an adult, just imagine that!

Still, I can’t bring myself to do it. It goes against each and everyone of my instincts. If I had to guess, I’d say being a commitment-phobe is part of my genetic makeup. As much as I want to turn to Kirk and simply enjoy the moment, I can’t. My brain is working fast, going through all possible outcomes and, before I know it, the moment’s gone.

Kirk pulls back from me and rolls on his back, facing the other side of the bed. I hear him move for a few seconds, but then a deep silence quickly settles in the room. Has he fallen asleep?

Lying there, I keep on waiting for him to come back, to press his body against mine… But that doesn’t happen, of course. Oh, what am I doing? This is the 21st century we’re living in; I'm a woman, and I can take initiative. I’m about to roll to the side so that I can face him, when he suddenly pushes the sheets back and sits on the edge of the bed. He stretches his back, goes up to his feet and, for a dreadful minute, I think he’s simply going to leave without telling me anything.

Usually, I’d be fine with something like that. In fact, I’d prefer something like that.

Do you know what I used to say to Lana back in college? More than sleeping with a guy, there’s nothing that I like more than to wake up all by myself. Yeah, that’s me, the romance writer. I spend most of my waking hours daydreaming and writing about love and romance, but when it comes to my personal life… I’m ice-cold.

My HEA in the morning is an empty bed that I can roll around in.

But that ice has started to crack, and that thanks to Kirk.

“Emily?” he whispers, and I realize with a sinking feeling that he’s waking me up because he wants to leave. After the night we spent together, he’s still acting as if there’s nothing serious going on between the two of us. I mean, we still haven’t had a proper date, but that doesn’t mean that we have can’t be serious. In fact, I never felt more serious about anything in my life.

Then why don’t you say it, you dummy? I scold myself, but fear’s gripping my heart too tightly. If he’s getting up to leave, that must mean he doesn’t want to stay; it couldn’t be any more obvious. So why in the hell would I tell him to stay? Just so he can feed me so excuse and leave me here all the same? Yeah, like I’m going to let that happen.

I’m not going to end up being that woman.

Please. I write about enough of them in my books. The ones that get used around by the big alpha male.

I’m not giving up the power here.

Not after I did so much to stand on my own two feet.

“Emily?” he whispers again, this time louder. Closing my eyes shut, I just pretend to be deep sleep. For a moment I hear nothing, and I assume he’s just staring at me, waiting to see if I wake up.

I hear him start to collect his clothes from the floor and get dressed, and a few minutes later his black shoes are tapping the floor of my bedroom as he walks out. Each time I hear the tap of his shoes, my heart seems to shrink more and more, tightening up until it’s as taut as a violin strang.

Soon enough his footsteps fade away, and then I hear the door close as he leaves the apartment. Only then do I open up my eyes. I sit up on the bed, pulling the sheets against my body and covering my naked breasts. His scent stills lingers in the room and, doing it almost unconsciously, I brush the palm of one hand over the spot where he slept. It still feels warm to the touch, and I close my eyes and let the memories of the whole night come crashing in.

After what happened with Freeway, being with Kirk was exactly what I needed. It helped me clear my head and, more than that, it reassured me that I wasn’t wrong about him. There’s a future for the two of us… Or so I thought, because this morning I don’t feel that confident about morning.

Kirk is always so hot and cold. I just can’t read him. Even though he seems to look at life the same way I do, I never know what he’s thinking, which is kinda ironic, since I don’t really know what to think about all this.

How do porcupines afraid of their own shadow mate?

It’s an old joke. The punch line is…”very carefully.” And one or both usually end up dying.

Well, maybe WineBar and I are porcupines.

Except that joke is playing itself out right now in real life, and I don’t feel like laughing.