Page 174 of A Taste of Vanilla

She shakes her head. “Yes.”

I step closer, and she steps back.

I stop immediately.

“I don’t think you’re a mistake.”

Her eyes shine. “But you think this is.”

I can’t answer. Not because she’s right, but because I’m afraid she may be.

She isn’t a mistake, and never will be. The timing, the secrecy, Marley caught in the middle and Halston raw from betrayal. I have no plan to stay and no right to let her trust me as if I might.

Her silence hardens, and she nods once. “Okay.”

And as much as I say it, I hate that word coming from her lips.

She turns back to the table, her hands shaking.

“Halston.”

“I have to work.”

“It’s past midnight.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’re upset.”

“Good thing I’m not making macarons.”

“This isn’t?—”

She spins back toward me. “No. You don’t get to kiss me like that and turn me into a risk assignment.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“You already did.” She studies me for a moment before adding, “You need to leave.”

I turn but stop at the doorway. I should say something.

I want to say so many things.

Instead, I say, “Lock the door behind me.”

She laughs, wounded. “Of course that’s what you’d say.”

I close my eyes, then look back at her.

She stands in the middle of the kitchen, arms wrapped around herself.

I want to go back.

“Goodnight, Halston.”

She looks down at the floor. “Goodnight, Warren.”

I go into Saints & Sinners for a moment to breathe. Oliver is behind the bar, closing the register. He looks up, takes one look at my face, and his expression goes flat. “What did you do?”