“But as you reminded me, we’re not sleeping together anymore, so our old boundaries don’t apply.”
Oh, he had some front. She hadn’t once asked him to give her more; she’d respected that he couldn’t, and she’d walked away without dishing out any blame. Could he not give her this one thing and just keep his distance for a while?
Apparently not.
The only reason Havana didn’t chew a chunk out of his ass was that she didn’t want to prolong this conversation. She just wanted him to go.
She took a long breath—a movement that physically hurt, since her ribs felt so damn tight. “Maybe someday in the future we can build a friendship and meet up for coffee or whatever on occasion, but that’s not going to happen right now. I need some space from you. We’ll still work together on tracking Gideon and putting a stop to the auctions, of course,” she added quickly.
“You’re telling me we can’t be friends?”
“I’m not trying to be a bitch, I’m not striking out at you. I’m just being honest. It wouldn’t be enough for me right now, Tate.” And it burned that it would be enough for him; that he thought he could so easily keep things platonic.
He clenched his jaw. “Isn’t it better than nothing at all?”
“It will be at some point, but not yet. Like I said, I need some space from you for a while. So unless the subject matter is Gideon, his jaguars, the auctions, or a landlord-thing, I don’t want you to call or text or visit.”
Tate felt his chest tighten. He knew he should leave her be—he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and she clearly wasn’t going to settle for anything less. Plus, giving her some breathing room to move on would be best for them both. Especially since it was impossible for him to be around her without wanting to be deep inside her body. But everything in him, including his cat, rebelled at the idea of granting her request.
She’d always been like a damn magnet to him. It was like she dragged him into her orbit. Initially, it had been purely on a physical level. But that changed when he got to know her. It was like she spoke to something inside him. He couldn’t really explain it. There was no battling or ignoring that kind of pull. It haunted you. Incited you. Badgered you. So there’d be nothing simple about staying away from her. There never had been—hence why he stood right in front of her.
His eyes lowered to the pulse in her neck—it was beating fast and hard. He wanted to nuzzle that neck. Wanted to draw her luscious scent into his lungs and drown in it. Wanted to bite down hard and leave a mark. None of which he’d do.
He just needed to see her. Touch her. Smell her. He hadn’t really expected her to agree to the “friends” thing, but it had been worth a shot if it meant he didn’t have to keep his distance from her.
His cat purred, happy to see her, wanting to be closer to her. Granting the feline what he wanted, Tate inched forward, glad when she didn’t step back. “Haven’t you missed me just a little?”
“It doesn’t really matter either way, does it?”
“It matters to me.”
“Then no, I haven’t missed you.”
Sensing it was a barefaced lie, he felt his mouth twitch. “I see. I guess it’s a good thing I have thick skin, or that might have wounded me.” Unable to stand this close without touching her, he stroked his knuckles down the column of her throat. He raked his eyes over her face, taking in every curve and freckle—he had them all memorized. “You’re so beautiful you sometimes take my breath away, you know.”
She gave him a wary look. “Tate.”
“Especially your eyes. They grab hold of a person by the throat.” He loved staring into them when she came.
She licked her lower lip. “Look, I have a few errands to run, so …”
Loosely fisting the ponytail that hung over her shoulder, he let the silky mass slide through his hand. “If you want the truth, I don’t think that us being friends would be enough for me either. But can’t we try?”
“In the future, yes. Just not right now.”
Tate ever so slowly nodded, but not a single cell in his body was in agreement. He didn’t want to be a figure that hovered on the periphery of her world—a mere landlord, a casual acquaintance who had no right to touch her. How the fuck could he ever sit and engage in small-talk with her, like he didn’t know every inch of her body? Like he didn’t miss what they’d once had? Like she meant nothing to him?
Needing to touch her again—and it was a need, one he was absolutely shit at fighting—he danced the tips of his fingers down one side of her face. “Never should have pursued you. Not when I suspected that letting you go wouldn’t be so simple. But I had to have you. I needed to know if sex between us would be as good as my gut and my cock told me it would be.” He lowered his mouth an inch. “It was better.”