“I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For misreading the situation the other night. For making things awkward between us. I was—” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I was looking for things that weren’t there. I was close to panic and you were trying to distract me. I understand that now. I don’t want you feeling that you have to avoid me, or be careful around me. I’d never wanted that—I—”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” He gripped the railing and she noticed his knuckles were white.
“I wanted to clear it up, that’s all. It was a kiss. Didn’t mean anything. Two people trapped in an elevator, one of whom was feeling vulnerable.” Shut up right now, Paige. “I know I’m not your type. I know you don’t have those feelings. I’m like your little sister. I get that, so—”
“Oh for—seriously?” He interrupted her with a low growl and finally turned to face her. “After what happened the other night you really think I see you as a little sister? You think I could kiss you that way if I felt like that about you?”
She stared at him, her heart drumming a rhythm against her chest. “I thought—you said—I thought you saw me that way.”
“Yeah, well, I tried.” He gave a humorless laugh and drained his champagne in one mouthful. “God knows, I tried. I’ve done e
verything short of asking Matt for a baby photo of you and sticking that to my wall. Nothing works. And do you know why? Because I do have feelings, you’re not little and you’re not my fucking sister.”
Shock struck her like a bolt of lightning.
They were the only two people left on the terrace. Just them and the twinkling lights of Manhattan. The buildings rose around them, dark shapes enveloping them in intimate shadows and the shimmer of light.
The storm clouds were gathering, creating ominous shapes in the dark sky.
The sudden lick of wind held the promise of rain.
Paige was oblivious. The sky could have come crashing down and she wouldn’t have noticed.
Her mouth was so dry she could hardly form the words. “But if you feel that way—if—you do have feelings, why do you keep saying—” she stumbled, confused. “Why haven’t you ever done anything about it?”
“Why do you think?” There was a cynical, bitter edge to Jake’s tone that didn’t fit the nature of the conversation. None of the pieces fitted. She couldn’t think. Everything about her had ceased to function.
“Because of Matt?”
“Partly. He’d kick my butt and I wouldn’t blame him.” He stared down at his hands, as if they were something that didn’t belong to him. As if he was worried about what they might do.
“Because you’re not interested in relationships—or complications as you call them.”
“Exactly.”
“But sex doesn’t have to be a relationship. It can just be sex. You said so yourself.”
“Not with you.” His tone was harsh and she took a step back, shocked. They’d often argued, baited each other, but she’d never heard that edge of steel in his voice before.
“Why? What’s different about me?”
“I’m not going to screw you and walk away, Paige. That’s not going to happen.”
“Because of our friendship? Because you’re worried it would be awkward?”
“Yeah, that too.”
“Too? What else?” She stared at him bemused.
He was silent.
“Jake? What else?”
He swore under his breath. “Because I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you. There’s already been enough damage to your heart. You don’t need more.”