Page 60 of Elevator Pitch

“I was thinking we could order dinner or—”

“No.” I flick my wrist, pointing a wobbly finger between us. “I mean us. We never addressed that kiss. And your rejection the other morning said a lot.”

“My rejection?” Ross’s head rolls on the throw pillow, eyes wide as he stares at me. “I want you, Vee. Make no mistake about it. I just don’t think we should cross that line.”

“Why?” My voice cracks. Disappointment mingles with the ache in my chest. “I just want to understand what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing, Vee. Absolutely nothing.” Ross swings upward and shifts so he’s facing me, knees spread and either side of mine. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

I swallow against the sudden lump in my throat and will away the burn of tears.

“That didn’t sound right.” He clears his throat and takes my hands, digging his thumb into the backs of each of them. “Vee, I haven’t been on a real date in years. One where I just had fun with someone. Doing something easy like enjoying the day, not putting on a show.”

I nod, knowing I’d had the same sentiment.

“And I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

My head snaps upward. “A sleeping arrangement?”

“A friendship.”

The term was almost worse.

“I’m not in the best place to start a new relationship, what with starting this job.” He squeezes my hands. “But I’m not ready for us to end.”

End. That was the word I was looking for. An ending to this affair. Like a summer love, that fades when September arrives. Only in this case, our situation ends when his season begins.

I could curse that Ross used me. That he’s tossing me aside in a new way, but I’ve put myself in this position and I don’t exactly regret it.

He made me no promises in the beginning. He never offered sex. I’m the one with a libido out of control lately. Because of the way he curls into me. Because of the way he cupped my throat. Because of the way he moved his thigh between my legs.

I want him. But in many ways, I understand what he isn’t explaining. He isn’t looking for sex. He can have that with anyone. He wants something deeper, and we have it.

As friends. The friend-zone is where we need to stay.

Slowly, I pull my hands from his.

“I understand.”

Ross shakes his head. “I don’t think you do, and I’m not explaining myself very well. You’re the first woman I’ve been with where you don’t want something from me. And I don’t want to have sex for the sake of having sex. We aren’t like that, Vee. You’re important to me. More important than turning this into something that is only going to hurt in the end.”

I want to believe he’s trying to let me down gently. I’m the one who had a crush on him, not the other way around. Even if he says he wants me, he doesn’t want sex to blur the line. The one that points like an arrow to his superstition fix. We only sleep together.

“I think this afternoon should count as us sleeping together.”

“Vee.” Ross takes my hands again, flipping them to face palm up this time, and digging his thumbs across the lifeline on each.

We only get one life. And in that life, we might only get one month with a man and that month was quickly coming to an end for me.

To save myself, I politely said, “I have my work as well. And I need to write tonight.” Although I doubt I’ll have any creative thoughts in my mind this evening. My brain will circle over and over about all Ross and I did, and all I thought we might be.

Ross watches me for a long minute before lifting my hands and pressing a lingering kiss into each of them. When he stands, his full height towers over where I remain on the ottoman. He brushes my hair with the back of his knuckles and cups the nape of my neck a second, squeezing once.

“I had fun today, sweetheart.”

I nod, silently agreeing with him.

“The most fun I’ve had in nearly ten years.”