Page 96 of Cross Checked
“Do not look pleased.”
“I’m extremely pleased.”
“Cade.”
“What? You finally said something honest.”
My mouth snapped shut because, unfortunately, he was right.
He pushed off the counter then, slow and deliberate, but he did not come all the way to me. He stopped close enough that I could feel his presence, not close enough to trap me. That was Cade. He gave enough space to make the choice mine, but not enough for me to pretend he wasn’t there.
“So, what are you saying?” he asked, a little too calm.
Like he was letting me build the cage and already planning how to own every inch inside it.
“I’m saying this can be physical.” My cheeks burned, but I kept going because if I stopped now, I would never get it out. “Attraction. Chemistry. Benefits. Whatever. We’re adults. We clearly want each other, and pretending we don’t is starting to feel stupid. But I can’t do feelings. I can’t do expectations. I can’t do you looking at me like I’m something you’re going to keep.”
His expression changed then. Barely. Something possessive moved under his calm, sharp enough that my stomach twisted. “You think I look at you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you should pay attention.”
“I am paying attention. That’s the problem.”
He stared at me for one long second, and the air between us thickened until even my coffee seemed to stop steaming.
Then he nodded once.
“Okay.”
I blinked.
That was not what I expected. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“You want physical. No relationship. No expectations.” His eyes held mine. “Fine.”
Fine.
The word should have relieved me.
It did not.
It made something restless and stupid move inside my chest because he said it too easily, like he was agreeing to the label while refusing to surrender the truth underneath it.
“You’re not mad?”
“No.”
“Offended?”
“No.”
“Planning a long emotional rebuttal?”
