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Was he still talking about wine?
“I’m really full. I should probably—” Worth laid a hand over my wrist, pinning me to the table.
“Please stay so we can finish our meal. The next few weeks are going to take a lot of self-control. We should get used to it.”
“What if I don’t have much?”
Worth’s expression softened. “You wouldn’t have survived your circumstances if you didn’t.”
I wouldn’t have survived what Worth had done to me in bed either. “What about you? How much self-control do you have?”
“I’ve never needed much until recently because of the stupid fucking job I agreed to take.”
“What if I don’t want to have any?” Why the hell had I said that? I’d only had a little wine, it shouldn’t be clouding my judgment.
He rested a finger against my lips. “That is a dangerous thing to say.”
“Worth, I’m?—”
“Not now. I’m going to open the champagne, and we’re going to enjoy our dessert.”
“Seriously, I’m not sure how much more I can eat.”
“I only ask that you try a bite of one dessert and a sip of champagne. Surely you can manage that.”
At least I’d be far too stuffed to make any advances on him tonight. I’d be happy to fall into bed in a food coma. I could deal with my out-of-control horniness tomorrow. I could also hopefully talk to Beck. I glanced at my phone. He still hadn’t returned my text.
“Checking to see if Beck responded?”
“Yeah. He hasn’t. Has he texted or called you?”
Worth shook his head. “I didn’t expect him to. He’ll need some time to cool off. I think he’ll be okay by tomorrow.”
“He really told you to stay away from me?”
“Yes, but I didn’t pay attention to his messages until he called.”
I studied him for a moment. “Do you wish you’d listened to them?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.” Fuck what is wrong with me? I needed to stop this.
“I don’t have to obey my little brother.”
I shook my head. “He is the only friend I have left. If he doesn’t want us together?—”
“He doesn’t want us together because he thinks I’m going hurt you. He also thinks—and he’s probably right—this isn’t the time for you to start something.”
“Does it have to mean anything?” I asked.
“You tell me. I’m Mr. One Night Only.”
“And yet….”
“And yet I’d like a second night with you and a third, and we could see from there. That’s why it’s probably a good idea to keep our hands to ourselves, for now at least.”
For now? Was he seriously contemplating us seeing each other after this vacation? Would he really want to get together after I’d had more time to process what I’d been through?
