Chapter 8

Or something else.

“Kayla,” she whispered, leaning toward me.

I kissed her, then, feeling my passion reciprocated. So it came as a surprise when she placed her left hand against my torso and pushed, gently.

“Oh.” I blushed and moved away. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s not that,” she said. “I feel it, too. But we should talk. I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“Intend?” I scowled and crossed my arms. You’d better explain. And fast.

“You do realize I make my living from contract work. All over the place.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So in all likelihood, I’ll be leaving in the spring. And if you’re looking for something long-term…”

I hesitated, noting how her expression clouded over, ever so slightly, when I did so. But I needed time to consider.