"You think?" I asked, deflecting hard because I had no idea what to say to that.
"I know," he amended. "I do think about it. And I wonder..." Once again, he trailed off, and I was left almost holding my breath, waiting to see if he was going to finish that sentence and tell me what he was wondering.
Instead of speaking again, he turned to face me. Before I could say or do anything, he put a hand on my face, cupping my cheek gently. His thumb stroked against my skin, and I sat there, frozen, heart hammering in my chest.
Slowly, probably giving me time to tell him to fuck off if I wanted to, he leaned in, closer and closer until his mouth was just a breath away from mine.
I didn't speak. I didn't move. And he seemed to take that as permission, closing the almost nonexistent gap and kissing me.
His lips were soft and warm, and my eyes fluttered closed.
Finally, I broke my impression of a statue, and I leaned in and kissed him back, one hand going to his shoulder, the other resting against his chest.
It wasn't a long kiss, or a very deep one. He kept his tongue in his mouth, didn't try to take control over it or press me back and consume me.
My heart was racing, and when he finally pulled away, I licked my lips, tasting popcorn and his own flavor there.
His cheeks were dusted with pink, and he looked both eager and nervous, which made me smile shakily.
"Um. Okay," I said, which was probably the most idiotic thing someone could say after being kissed.
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Not good?"
"No," I murmured and then realized what I'd said. "No, I mean yes. Yes, it was good. It was really good. I'm just..."
"Listen, it's okay if you aren't interested," he said. "I know I'm new to your life and not very exciting and all that. I just... I wanted you to know where I stood. If you don't want any part of it, we can forget it ever happened and keep being friends and nothing else."
As if it would ever be that easy.
"I didn't say I wasn't interested," I said. "There's...." God. Fuck. How was I supposed to explain this?
"There's what?" Simon asked, looking at me curiously.
And fuck, this wasn't fair to him. He'd come to me in good faith, putting his feelings out there, and I was about to lie to his face.
"There's just some things I need to think about," I said finally. "Before I can get involved in something."
He nodded slowly, looking like he was turning that answer over in his head. "Okay," he said finally. "That's fair. You have to think about it."
I nodded. "Yeah. And I promise it has nothing to do with you. I've been at a point in my life lately where I'm trying to decide how I want to move forward, and I just don't think it's fair to put you in the middle of that just yet."
"Okay," he said again. "Sure. I mean. I wouldn't mind being in the middle of it, if it meant I got to be with you while you were figuring things out, but I know it doesn't always work like that, so I'm not about to pressure you. Just... I'm here for you, you know? If you need to talk or a break from thinking."
I smiled, but inside I wanted to cry a little. He was so nice and kind and understanding, and I was very aware that I didn't deserve him.
"Thank you," I said. "I really appreciate that. You're... you're too good, honestly."
"Nah," he said. "Just good enough, I think. But I'm glad you're at least a little bit interested."
"Simon, you have no idea," I said softly.
He glanced at me again, like he wanted to say something, but then shook his head. "So, we're calling it a night then?" he asked.
I nodded. "Probably for the best. It is getting late."
"Yeah. I'll walk you out."
I gathered my things and headed for the door with him following me, and when I was standing in the doorway, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. It was chaste, and he had a crooked smile on his face.
"Just something else to think about," he said, and then waved me off into the night.
As if I didn't already have enough on my mind as it was.
My whole drive home was just filled with guilt. I felt bad, like I had been leading Simon on, even though realistically I knew I hadn't done anything to imply that there was anything more than platonic between us. But I'd never told him about Killian or any of that, so he had no reason to think I wouldn't be interested.
I even felt guilty when it came to Killian himself.
As far as he knew, Simon was just a friend. He was just someone I hung out with to talk about art and growing up together and that was it.
That part pissed me off because I had nothing to feel guilty for where Killian was involved. It was explicit in the contract that we could date or sleep with whoever else we wanted, and he had Eve and played with other women at the club when he felt like it.
I was pretty sure he hardly ever spared a thought about how I was going to feel about it.
I drove, clenching the steering wheel much tighter than I needed to, and then realized that wasn't exactly true.
When he'd first brought up Eve, he had made sure to run that by me first. He'd even gone so far as to let me know that if I wasn't alright with it, he wouldn't do it.
So. Dammit.
I was going to have to talk to him about all of this, I already knew it.
It was going to bother me until I did. I had no idea what his reaction was going
