Almost Like Love(54)

And he’d talked too damn much last night.

Remembering their late-night conversation made him feel raw and exposed. What the hell had he been thinking? Why had he told Kate the pathetic story of his misspent youth? If he knew anything about women, the knowledge would make her possessively maternal—as though she could make up for the pain in his past by nurturing him now.

Kate had rolled away during the night and was no longer lying on his arm or against his shoulder. He could easily slip out of bed without waking her.

And then—what? Sneak out of her apartment without a word?

Classy.

Not that he hadn’t done it before. But that was usually after a one-night stand with a woman he never expected—or wanted—to see again. Kate deserved a hell of a lot more than that.

But he couldn’t stay. His urge to be gone was growing stronger by the minute.

Maybe he could leave her a note or send her a text telling her he hadn’t wanted to wake her. Then he could mention that since she was picking Jacob up after school on Tuesday, he’d see her that night.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He wouldn’t be blowing her off, but he wouldn’t be sending relationship signals, either.

Although, come to think of it, he had no reason to think Kate would want a relationship with him. In fact, it was pretty damn arrogant to assume it. She’d just broken up with her fiancé, after all. Maybe she’d feel the same way he did about last night: it was great rebound sex, but nothing more.

He’d just reached that point in his thoughts when Kate stirred, yawned, and opened her eyes.

“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him.

“Good morning.”

She rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes. The movement made the comforter slip down her body, and the sight of her naked breasts and perfect pink nipples caused his body to harden and tighten.

No. No morning sex. That would just muddy the waters.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans and boxers off the floor. Once he was decent, he turned to face Kate.

She was lying on her side and smiling at him, and she looked so warm and inviting and sexy, he was tempted to pull his clothes right off again.

Instead he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“I had a great time last night,” he said, wincing at the inanity of the statement.

“Me, too,” Kate said. She sat up and stretched, and he had to look away.

Then she got out of bed, padding over to her closet and grabbing a sky-blue cotton robe.

By the time she turned around, he’d managed to recover from the sight of her perfect ass.

“What would you like for breakfast?” she asked. “It’s my favorite meal of the day, so I’m pretty well stocked. I can do an omelet, waffles, bacon, eggs—whatever you want.”

It sounded delicious. But staying for breakfast would definitely send the wrong message.

He cleared his throat. “That all sounds great—but I’ve actually got to go. I’m meeting a friend at the gym for some basketball.”

It was sort of the truth. He and Mick usually did play on Sunday mornings, although it wasn’t a formal commitment.

He braced himself for Kate’s disappointment, but she just nodded. “Sure, no problem. I’ll make you breakfast some other time.”

A reference to the future. That was bad, but now wasn’t the time to deal with it.

“Okay.” He hesitated for a moment and then left her room to find his shirt.

It was on the sofa in the living room. Seeing it there made him remember going down on Kate last night, and how incredible it had been to feel her coming apart beneath him.

He forced himself to focus on getting dressed. After he had his shirt and shoes on, Kate came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck.

“Can I make you some coffee before you go?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to head out. I’m already running late,” he added, in spite of the fact that he had no idea what time it was.

He glanced down at the game on her coffee table.

“You can leave it here if you like,” Kate said.

He shook his head and started putting everything back in the box. Leaving something behind would also send the wrong message.

Gallifrey jumped up on the coffee table and looked at him reproachfully.

Of course that was just his imagination. Gallifrey was a cat, and he had no way of knowing that Ian was about to slink out of Kate’s apartment with no intention of returning.

Not that he didn’t want to see Kate again. He did want to see her again. He wanted her in Jacob’s life, and his life, too. As a friend.

He only hoped they could make the transition back to friendship after last night.