“We’re still really good at that.” The soft edges of Casey’swords hinted at lingering drowsiness. “I guess some things don’t change.”
Jacqueline nodded, but Casey’s words replayed in her head. Some things don’t change.Then Jacqueline’s own thoughts twisted the idea and taunted her. Nothing has changed. I haven’tchanged. My job still needs so much of me, and there’ll never be enough leftfor Casey.
What had she done? She’d so easily fallen into the flirtation andconvinced herself that the consequences didn’t matter. She loved Casey—with allher heart. But she’d been stupid enough to think that was enough once before.She’d been young and naive enough to think she would never lose Casey, but shehad and she could again. She’d had it all and she’d let it slip away, and nowshe wasn’t sure she deserved to get it back. Until she figured that out, shehad no business being here—risking hurting Casey and Sean.
Her burgeoning panic left her limbs weak and jacked up her pulserate. She worried Casey could hear her heart pounding, and that fear didn’timprove her condition. Telling herself to relax only made her tense more.
“Jacq?” Casey lifted her head slowly.
Jacqueline couldn’t meet her eyes. Casey would know—as soon asshe looked at her, she’d know. She needed just a second before she fracturedthe fantasy of what they’d just done together. She slipped her arm from underCasey’s neck and sat up, but Casey rose beside her.
“Sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
Over the years Casey had used the word countless times—in varyingways. She’d caressed the endearment with passion, she’d teased it withflirtation, and she’d even twisted it with derision in the midst of anargument, but none had touched Jacqueline more deeply than at this moment. The concernin that one word made Jacqueline’s throat ache with emotion.
She turned and forced herself to look at Casey. She owed her eyecontact—didn’t she? But when she lifted her gaze and saw the trust in her eyeswarring with apprehension, she nearly chickened out. If she let Casey getinvested in her again, she’d only hurt worse later, when Jacqueline let herdown again. “I will always love you. But this—”
“Please, don’t,” Casey whispered.
Jacqueline couldn’t let herself be deterred. She shouldn’t havegotten into bed with Casey, and she had to own that. The only way she could dothat was to force herself to face it head-on. It might hurt Casey for a minute,but in the long run, she’d be better off. “This was a mistake.”
Casey let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob, as ifthe words physically hurt her. Her face was a slide show of emotions: hurt,disbelief, then anger.
“Get out.”
“Casey, I’m—”
“I said, get out. Of my bedroom. Of my house. And of my life.”
Jacqueline wanted to apologize, to somehow take back the painshe’d caused. But she’d have to go back so much further than just this evening.So, instead, she grabbed her jeans from the bathroom floor and tugged them onas quickly as she could. She didn’t remember where she’d left her shirt, so shetook one of Casey’s button-down shirts off the chair nearby. Casey scooted outthe other side of the bed, clutching the sheet in front of her.
“God, I can’t believe I let—I have to be the biggest idiot—” WhenCasey reached a certain level of anger, she had trouble finishing a sentence.“I just allowed myself—thinking you’d changed—and I slept with you.” Shewhipped the sheet tighter around herself and glared at Jacqueline. “A mistake?A mistake! So, it’s okay for you to have a slut in every city, but sleepingwith me iswhere you draw your moral line?”
Jacqueline staggered back a step, fumbling with the buttons ofthe shirt. She had little defense against Casey’s words. She deserved thelancing pain in her chest. Giving up on the buttons, she clutched the edges ofthe shirt together and fled the room.
She made it as far as the living room, but something stopped her.She sat down on the couch, propped her elbows on her knees, and cradled herhead in her hands. She’d screwed up pretty big this time. While she suspectedCasey’s parting shot was calculated to draw the most blood, it wasn’tinaccurate. She’d given Casey every reason to believe she could screw her andleave, and that’s the thing that hurt the most. But what should she do now?
“What are you doing out here?” Casey stood in the archway betweenthe hall and living room, her expression full of anger and confusion.
“I only made it this far.” Despite being at a loss a moment ago,she suddenly knew what to do—be honest. Casey deserved nothing less. “You saidI leave when things get tough. I thought I’d try staying this time—see how thatworks for me.”
“And?” Casey raised a cautious brow, but Jacqueline thought shedetected a softening in her tone.
Jacqueline gave her a wry smile. “It’s too early to tell.”
“If I give you credit for staying, will you leave?”
Jacqueline stood. Though her instinct was to go to Casey ratherthan to the door, she didn’t make a move in either direction. “If that’s whatyou want.”
“It is.”
She nodded. A part of her expected Casey to crumble in the faceof her gesture—at least she could have seemed to consider it for a secondbefore she outright rejected her. She skirted around the coffee table asopposed to crossing closer to Casey, but she stopped again before she left.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said to the closed door in frontof her.
“Jacq—”
“Please, let me say this.” She turned, then wished she hadn’t.The anguish in Casey’s eyes gutted her. “We are Sean’s—” She stopped. Thismoment had nothing to do with Sean, and to pretend otherwise was a cop-out. “Ipicked a fight back there.” She nodded toward the bedroom. “Because I’m scared.We’ve been amicable for years, but lately—something’s changing. Even if it onlyleads to us being friends again, it matters to me. You matter—so much. And thatscares the shit out of me.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all of that. I want tobelieve you. I know we took a risk, but, for once, I let go of logic and wentwith my emotions. Yet instead of being there with
