Page 74 of The Accidental Dating Experiment

I chew on that for a beat. He’s not wrong. Elizabeth was a workaholic, but so was I. “I’d be the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Maybe so, but she was also driven, ambitious, and single-minded.”

“And it didn’t work out,” I add, then tap my chest. “Look at me now, I’m thirty-five, divorced and married to my job.”

“That’s your choice,” he says, no ire, no judgment. Just an honest assessment.

“I want to be the best for my clients. They come to me for help and deserve someone who doesn’t phone it in,” I say, a little defensively.

He laughs, shaking his head. “If you’re honest with them, you ought to be honest with yourself.” He levels me with a hard stare, the kind that only a good friend can deliver. “You’re afraid you’re going to be like your dad.”

Ouch. That stings. “That’s the problem with friends who know you too well.”

“Yup. They know you too well.”

I scrub a hand across the back of my neck, letting his comments sink in. But really, this very reality has been sinking in for a few decades now. My father’s been detached and dismissive since I was thirteen, probably before then too, so I taught myself to rely only on myself. That shit’s hard to unlearn, harder to undo. Risky too. If I tried and failed, the collateral damage would be worse—Juliet. “You’re not wrong. But the thing is I don’t want to hurt her.”

Sawyer leans forward, elbows on the table. “I get that. But you’re the only one who knows what you’re capable of,” he says, ending his observation on a big, hearty yawn.

He stretches his arms, and quietly we leave the kitchen, gather blankets for the chaise. Once he flops down on it, he’s out like a light.

I leave, and while I really should mull over his points, that’s not what I do. My feet take me straight to the main bedroom. There’s only one place I want to be.

She’s asleep, though, so I’m quiet as I get ready for bed, stripping down to boxer briefs and brushing my teeth. When I’m done, I climb into bed, next to her, feeling a little unburdened, a little less guilty.

But still guilty in a whole new way.

How could I ever give her what she deserves? Maybe Sawyer’s right. It would take a choice from me. What if I do it poorly? What if I don’t have the skills to do love, like I have to teach it?

Sure, I could try to figure out my stuff better. Try to work on all these walls I erect. But is it fair to work on them with her? I don’t think it is. It’s not fair to ask her to wait for me to become a better partner either.

My heart twists painfully. I hate that feeling so instead I steal a sniff of her hair, that vanilla-honey scent going to my head.

Making me think maybe someday.

When her eyes flutter open, though, I’m thinking one thing. Now.

“Hey,” she whispers.

I half want to tell her that Sawyer figured me out, but when she cups my cheek and strokes my jaw, I don’t want to talk at all. I cover her warm body in one swift move, grabbing her wrists, pinning them above her head, and dropping my mouth onto hers.

She wraps her legs around me, hooking them over my ass. She’s soft and pliant, arching up into me, asking for what we both desperately want.

I kiss her harder, and at times like this, words only get in the way. But there are a few I need to say. I wrench away and meet her gaze. “Sawyer is staying the night. Can you be quiet as I fuck you?”

“I can try.”

I shake my head as I shift my body next to hers. “You have to, Juliet.”

She smiles. “Then you’ll have to make me be quiet.”

Challenge accepted.

27

QUIET TIME

Juliet