“Poppy, I think we should have an affair.”
CHAPTER 29
Poppy hadn’t known what to expect from Killian’s early morning visit. But she was fairly certain that announcement wasn’t it.
No response came to her boggled mind as she stared at his expectant face. All she could do was gape at him as if he’d sprouted horns and turned into one of the demons he’d described to her from his paranormal research.
He waited a few seconds, then realized she wasn’t going to speak.
So he continued, “I know that sounds kind of abrupt and crazy, but I really think it would benefit us both.”
Oh, she could well see the benefits. At least the physical ones. But … she just couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that he’d even suggested such a thing.
“You see,” he started, and suddenly a moment of awareness reached into Poppy’s scrambled brains. She grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside the apartment. It wasn’t likely that any of her neighbors would venture by, but if they did, she didn’t really want them hearing Killian’s theories on why they should become lovers.
Call her old-fashioned.
She continued to tug him with her until they reached the living room. Then she dropped his arm like he was on fire. She moved across the room as if more space would help her think straight.
Killian watched her for a moment. Waiting again, she supposed, to see if she’d say anything, but really, still no words were coming to her. Well, none that she could string together into a comprehensible sentence.
“Poppy, I know this sounds crazy,” he said, taking a step toward her, then stopping, “but it’s clear we’re both very attracted to each other.”
Poppy realized her eyes must be the size of saucers. She was attracted to him. Absolutely. And she couldn’t deny a part of her was thrilled that he was saying he was attracted to her too. But the way he was approaching it was more like a business arrangement than a love affair.
“You see,” he continued, “we’ve both been too hurt from our past relationships to jump right into something committed again. In fact, I think that would be a disaster.”
She waited.
“But,” he said slowly, “I don’t think we can ignore our physical attraction. And maybe we could help each other gain some confidence again.”
By some miracle, she found her voice. “You didn’t seem particularly insecure last night.”
Killian actually smiled at that. Apparently he didn’t find this proposition strange at all.
“Believe me, you are the only one who has been able to make me react like that.”
Poppy’s heart fluttered at his admission. Was that true? He didn’t do things like that on a regular basis?
“I—I’ve never done something like that.”
Killian’s smile broadened, making him stunningly beautiful. His eyes glittered, filled with pleasure and what Poppy thought looked like possessiveness.
Her whole body reacted, skin tingling.
“So you can see, we have something special happening between us.” He closed the space between them, stopping inches from her.
“I don’t know if this is wise,” she said, even as she wanted to press herself against him and let him kiss her senseless. In fact, senseless sounded wonderful. No more thinking, just feeling. Just letting go.
But she managed to finish voicing her concern. “I still think there is the potential to really get hurt.”
He nodded. “I’ve thought about that too. But we have started this great friendship, so if we are just up front with each other, then things should be fine. We need to learn to trust again.”
She still didn’t answer. To her, this sounded like a recipe for disaster.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to ignore the attraction here.” His eyes caught hers, holding them. Heat flared between them.
No, she couldn’t argue with that, but she just wasn’t sure.
“So what do you see as the final outcome?” she asked.
He shrugged, the muscles of his shoulders rippling under the cotton of his shirt. “We have fun, keep it light, learn how to be comfortable being ourselves and being with someone else.”
She studied him for a moment. His eyes were filled with sincerity and hopefulness. He really thought this idea could work.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’ve never seen myself as a casual affair kind of girl.”
“No,” he agreed immediately. “But this isn’t exactly casual. We’re friends. We will remain friends no matter what. I’m suggesting … I don’t know, a relationship with training wheels.”
Poppy raised an eyebrow at that analogy. She was more inclined to see it as a relationship on a unicycle. On a tightrope. Someone was bound to fall hard.
And she was afraid it was going to be her.
She crossed her arms around herself, then moved to sit on the sofa. What did a person say to a proposition like this? Part of her wanted to say yes. Unequivocally yes. But another part of her, the rational part, the part not driven by her libido, knew she should absolutely say no.
The couch dipped as Killian joined her, his knee so close, it nearly brushed hers. Just the possibility of an innocuous touch like that and her body pulsed with longing.
Saying no would be so difficult. But saying yes could lead to much harder times ahead.
Even as she thought that, her head nodded as if the other part—the libido part—was answering without her consent.
Killian paused. Had she agreed? Even though he’d thrown the idea out there, he realized he hadn’t expected Poppy to agree. Of course, he wasn’t sure that slight nod was truly agreement, much as he wanted to see it that way.
“I—I just don’t see how.” She paused, clearly struggling with the idea. “I just don’t see how this works. I mean, I’m not comfortable with you just showing up to—hook up.”
That wasn’t how he’d imagined it either.
“I think we simply go on like we have been, except when it seems appropriate to both of us, then we …”
This sounded kind of weird now that he was saying it out loud.
“We …” How did he say this with any finesse?
“We fool around,” she supplied.
“Yes.”
Damn, what must she be thinking? About this suggestion? About him? That he was some weird lecher or something.
He sighed. Perhaps laying it out like this wasn’t the brilliant idea he’d thought it was while wandering the streets of Boston in the wee hours of the night.
Maybe he should have just let an affair happen on its own. Or not happen. Now he was back to not being so sure why he was here.
“Okay,” she said, standing.
He waited for her to ask him to leave. Or to tell him that it was the most offensive proposition she’d ever heard.
Instead, she walked toward the kitchen, pausing to ask, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Wait, the “okay” had been her answer. She’d agreed.
“Um, sure,” he said after a second. “That would be great.”
She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, and he fell back against the couch cushions. She’d agreed. She’d agreed to an affair.
His cock leapt in his jeans as if in an attempt to give him a high five.
And he groaned. What was he doing?
