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“Kiss me,” I said. “Just that. Kiss me.”
She leaned down. Her lips were an inch from mine. I could feel her breath, smell the mint on it, see her pupils huge and black.
Then she stopped.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Claire…”
“I can’t, Mark.” She straightened up and wrapped her arms around herself. Her eyes were swimming. “If I kiss you, I won’t stop. I know I won’t. And then what? I sit across from Helen at Mum’s birthday and pass her the gravy?”
She was crying now, quietly, tears running down her flushed face. My cock was still standing up between us like an idiot, which didn’t help the mood.
I pulled the towel over myself. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I want you so much it hurts.” She laughed through the tears. “I’ve wanted you since before she even brought you home. Do you know that? I saw you first. At the pub quiz. I was working up the nerve and she just walked over.”
I didn’t know that. Eleven years and I never knew that.
She wiped her face on her sleeve. “I’m going to get Kelly to finish your session.”
“Claire, please.”
“Don’t.” She opened the door. Looked back once, at me lying there, aching and hard and helpless.
“Ask me again in a year,” she said. “If you’re still asking.”
The door clicked shut.
Ending 11 of 16: Cold Feet. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.