The Next Move (27 page)

"Hey." He paused. "I got your message. Did you…"

Another pause.

         
Leaning against her car, she ran a hand through her hair and took a breath. "Listen, I’m sorry about the other night."

         
"Kat, you don’t have to apologize. If we’re moving too fast, I don’t have a problem slowing down."

         
"It’s not that."

         
"Okay." He cleared his throat. "What…" A long breath, as if bracing himself for what she was going to say. "What
is
it?"

         
She swallowed hard. "I just don’t think I’m ready for anything right now.
 
With anyone."

         
With anyone except the one who let go of me
.

Forty One

         
Three days after Chris left, Kat’s phone rang as she walked out of the office for the evening.

         
Is it Chris
? She rolled her eyes as she dug her cell out of her purse. Every time the damned thing rang, she got her hopes up, thinking it might be him, and every time, her hopes were dashed.
He’s not going to call. Get over it
.

         
She flipped it open and stopped so fast she stumbled.

         
Chris
.

         
With her heart in her throat, she answered. "Hello?"

         
"Kat, we need to talk." His tone was as unreadable as his face had been the night he left.

         
Relief and anger vied for dominance in her voice, but she managed to keep her tone neutral. "Okay. Let’s talk."

         
"I’d rather…" He paused, clearing his throat. "I’d rather do it in person."

         
Tears stung her eyes.
Chris, I can’t watch you walk out again. I just can’t
. "Chris…"

         
"Please," he said, his voice suddenly unsteady. "Look, I need to explain what happened the other night,
 
and…"

         
And tell me all about her
? She exhaled through her nose, biting her tongue as her composure wavered.

         
"Kat, please," he said. "I shouldn’t have done what I did the other night, and I want to explain myself face to face." He took a breath. "I owe you that much."

         
The lump in her throat swelled. Finally, she exhaled, her shoulders sagging. "I’m heading home now. Why don’t you meet me there?"

         
"I can be there in an hour."

~ * ~

         
She opened the door, hoping her face didn’t reflect how much it hurt to see him.

         
"Hey," he said.

         
"Hey." It did hurt to see him, but it was the other ache he ignited deep inside her that made her want to break down crying. Was she really that pathetic, that she still physically craved him even now?

         
He nodded towards the threshold. "Can I come in?"

         
"Yeah." She looked down and stepped out of the way, letting him walk past. After she closed the door, they stood in silence, neither looking at the other. Part of her wanted to take this in the living room and sort it out on the couch, but more often than not, when they’d tried that, fucking preceded talking. No matter how hurt and angry she was, it didn’t change the fact that Chris was living, breathing temptation, and as much as her body ached for his touch, she couldn’t sleep with him again. They needed to talk about this someplace other than on a horizontal surface.

         
"Let’s go in the kitchen," she said, heading that way before he had a chance to respond. Footsteps thudded on the floor behind her, but she didn’t need to hear him to know he was following her. The air thrummed with his presence.

         
And as they stepped into the kitchen, she instantly regretted the choice to talk there.
Great, let’s take this back to the place where we kissed for the first Goddamned time
.

         
She took a deep breath, shoving the memories into the back of her mind. They needed to talk, and here was as good a place as any. She spoke without facing him. "What happened the other night?"

         
"Look, I’m sorry."

         
She turned on her heel. "Don’t apologize, just tell me what the fuck happened." Her own anger caught her off guard. His eyes widened and his lips parted. She chewed the inside of her cheek. "I’m sorry. I’m…" She rubbed her eyes, then looked at him. "I’m sorry. Go on."

         
"I didn’t mean to hurt you the other night," he whispered.

         
"You have a funny way of trying not to hurt me."

         
He scowled. "Would you let me explain myself?"

         
Gritting her teeth, she said, "Please do."

"Listen, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but Kat, I can’t

keep using you for sex."

         
"Couldn’t you have thought of that
before
you started?"

         
 
"Do you think I planned it that way?" His tone suddenly shifted from repentant to angry. "That I just deliberately got you all fired up, then walked out for shits and giggles?"

         
"Well, I never expected you to do anything like that at all. You never struck me as the type to get up and walk out without saying more than two words, then completely cold-shoulder me for days. So honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me at this point."

         
His jaw tightened and he looked away. "You know me better than that."

         
"Do I?"

         
Shifting his weight, he drew a long breath in through his nose. "We agreed in the beginning that we could walk away from this with no hard feelings, right?"

         
A sinking feeling tugged at her gut. "Yeah, we did. But I didn’t think…"

         
He put his hand up. "I know, I know. And I didn’t think that would happen either." His expression and tone softened. "I swear to you, Kat, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did the other night, but…I can’t do this anymore."

She swallowed hard.
So here it is. We agreed to this. I also agreed not to fall in love with you, but you’re playing by the rules. So will I
. She nodded, forcing a neutral expression. "Okay, we’ll stop."

         
They were both silent for a moment. Kat stared at the floor, trying to keep her composure. Even in the beginning, she knew it would be difficult to stop sleeping with him. Giving up something enjoyable was never easy. It just wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.

         
"Are you sure you’re okay with this?" he asked.

         
She shrugged. "It doesn’t matter if I am or not. We agreed that if one of us wanted to stop, we would." She met his eyes and swallowed hard, trying not to read between the lines of his expression. The way he chewed his lower lip was out of discomfort in an awkward situation, not because he was hurting as bad as she was. The furrow of his brow was concern, not regret. And no matter how much she wished them to be, those
weren’t
tears in his eyes.

         
She shifted her gaze back to the floor, where there was nothing for her wishful thinking to distort into a glimmer of hope.
Hope of what? That he wants to go back to being friends with benefits
?

         
"So what now?" he whispered.

         
His voice is not shaking
. She took a breath. "I don’t know. I guess we just go back to the way things were before."

         
He exhaled hard and when she looked up, he was staring out the kitchen window with unfocused eyes. "Maybe we should…" He trailed off.

         
She folded her arms across her chest to keep from shaking. "Maybe we should what?"

         
He dropped his gaze, chewed his lip again, then looked at her.
My God,
are
those tears in his eyes
? "Maybe we should spend some time apart. Give each other a few days to…" He paused, clearing his throat. "Give us both a chance to get used to being just friends again."

         
A lump rose in her throat. As much as she didn’t want to let him go, she couldn’t help but be relieved at his suggestion. A few days alone might give her some time to deal with it, be able to face him again without being this close to tears. After a moment, she nodded. "Maybe you’re right."

         
They stood in silence, miles of distance between them in her tiny kitchen. What she wouldn’t have given for the courage to tell him how she really felt about him, but she was too close to losing him altogether. The damage was done. He’d ended it. She couldn’t risk what was left of their friendship.

         
Finally, Chris spoke, his voice wavering. "I should probably go."

         
She clenched her jaw as the lump in her throat rose even higher. The thought of watching him walk out that door again was too much, but having him here was even worse. The sooner he was gone, the sooner she could get used to him
being
gone. Silently, she nodded.

         
When he moved, it wasn’t to leave. He came towards her. "Kat, I’m sorry about the other night, and I’m sorry I couldn’t keep doing this." He touched her shoulder gently, pausing as if waiting to see if she’d recoil. When she didn’t, he put his arms around her.

         
A tear rolled down her cheek as she returned his embrace. The familiar warmth of Chris’s platonic, friendly hug was lost in the cold emptiness of knowing this was as close to him as she’d ever be again. She never wanted to let him go, but she needed him to leave before she broke down.

         
She pulled away gently and he released her. They looked at each other in silence again, and this time she was sure that his eyes were wet. He took a breath, parting his lips as if to speak, but tightened his jaw and looked away, evidently deciding against saying whatever he was about to say. Then he pursed his lips and nodded, as if satisfied that they’d settled their differences, and turned to go.

         
Just before he made it out of the kitchen, she whispered under her breath. "She’s a lucky woman."

         
Chris stopped in his tracks, his hand flying to the doorjamb as if he had to physically catch himself. He looked over his shoulder. "What?"

         
Kat folded her arms across her chest again and swallowed hard to keep from breaking down. "Whoever she is, she’s a lucky woman." She forced a smile. Though it was sincere—after all, she wanted him to be happy—it still hurt.

         
He turned around, letting his shoulder rest against the doorframe. "How did…" He wetted his lips. "How do you know there
is
someone?"

         
"Lucky guess." She laughed softly, the only thing left to keep herself from crying.

         
He dropped his gaze, chewing his lip again. Then his posture straightened a little. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Yes, there is someone."

The words hit her in the chest. It didn’t matter that she knew it was coming. Hearing it was more than she could handle.
I should have let him walk out. I never should have said anything
. She cursed under her breath as a tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.

He shouldered himself off of the doorframe and inched towards the hallway, but paused again. "Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair and looking at the floor.

"What?" She furrowed her brow.

He raised his eyes, looking straight up as if trying to gather courage or find the words as he swallowed nervously. "I need to be totally honest with you."

She hugged herself tighter. "About?"

"About the other night." His gaze fell to the floor again. "About everything. About…" He paused. "Her."

Oh God, there’s more
. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she took a deep breath. "Go on."

"There is…" He hesitated. Leaned against the doorframe again. Kept staring at the floor. "Do you remember what you told me the first night we…" He hesitated. "When we started this whole thing, what you told me about a first kiss?"

That entire night was etched into her memory. "Yes, I do."

"How it’s like you reach a point where it’s not a matter of if, it’s when?"

"Right."

He was quiet for a moment, opening his mouth to speak, then hesitating, as if the words refused to come. Finally, he said, "I think falling for someone works the same way. You keep moving towards each other, inching closer, backing away, and waiting for someone to finally say ‘checkmate’." At that, he looked at her, pausing for a moment as if searching her eyes. "There comes that point when you know it’s coming, it’s just a matter of the pieces falling into place and someone saying it."

She furrowed her brow, trying to follow him. "Okay…"

His lips thinned for a moment and his cheek rippled as if he’d clenched his jaw. He dropped his gaze again. "What if saying ‘checkmate’ meant losing the game?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

He drew a ragged breath. How long would you keep playing if you knew the other player wouldn’t say it, but
you
would lose if you did?"