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Elia shook her head, keeping her hand locked with Kamryn’s as she closed her eyes. Sadness swept through her now, her fear overriding any thought to hope and pleasure. “No.”

“Oh, I thought…” Kamryn trailed off, looking so confused.

Elia felt for her. She knew exactly what Kamryn had thought, and the worst part was that she hadn’t been wrong. Elia wanted it. She wanted to be touched and caressed and checked after. She wanted someone who cared about her, and if that care could develop into love? Even better. Just like she’d always wanted Abagail to find that love and stability, Elia had wanted it for herself more times than she could count.

Yet, she was still alone.

“You didn’t think wrong,” Elia said, lifting Kamryn’s chin with a finger so she could say this as directly as possible. “What you were thinking is exactly what I was thinking, but…”

“There’s always a but to ruin things.”

“Sometimes.” Elia dropped her hand from Kamryn’s face, immediately regretting it. She missed the warmth and touch,the intimacy that came with the touch. “This comes back to what I was trying to tell you. When I mix relationships with Windermere, it doesn’t turn out well for me.”

“What happened?”

Elia shook her head. She wasn’t ready to explain that. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever be ready to tell Kamryn what had happened eighteen years ago and why she’d subsequently been shut out from anything other than what she was already doing. It had been a miracle that they’d allowed her to be the department head.

“All right,” Kamryn said, her voice calm and not angry at all.

That was such a nice change from any other time that Elia had shared this with anyone. She’d been met with anger, disbelief, and then accusation. It had hurt every single time.

“Then we won’t.” Kamryn gave her a smile. “Fake girlfriends we’ll remain.”

Elia grinned at that. She’d nearly forgotten that this was how everything between them had started. With a kiss that she wasn’t ever going to forget. And with the knowledge that a second kiss, on both their terms, would be astronomically better than the first one.

“Fake girlfriends.” Elia held her hand out and waited for Kamryn to take it and shake, as if they were making yet another deal between them. Their relationship had certainly become an exchange of favors at some point, hadn’t it? “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry for what?” Kamryn folded her hands in her lap, clearly not wanting to touch anymore. It wouldn’t surprise Elia if that made her uncomfortable.

“For giving you mixed signals.”

Kamryn ran her fingers through her hair and sighed heavily. “It’s clear to me that you’re not ready to share. That can be fora number of reasons, but my guess is that it’s because you don’t fully trust me yet.”

Elia nodded slightly. Damn, Kamryn was good.

“Doing anything like I asked, and perhaps like you were thinking, requires trust. If we don’t have that, then it won’t be good.”

“Agreed,” Elia murmured. She was so glad that Kamryn understood. “I don’t want to repeat past mistakes.”

“Me either.” Kamryn gave a weak smile then. “So let’s make a promise to each other, all right?”

“What kind of promise?”

“A good one.”

Elia waited patiently for whatever Kamryn had up her sleeve this time. And she was glad to know that she wouldn’t have to wait long.

“Let’s promise to keep open minds, and to keep open communication about what we’re experiencing, feeling, and all of that. But let’s not put the pressure of anything other than budding friendship and fake dating onto it.”

“I can promise that,” Elia answered, already feeling lighter than she had before. Why was it so easy to talk to Kamryn sometimes? She needed more of that in her life.

“Good. I promise that too.” Kamryn’s lips pulled upward slightly. “I think I’m going to head back to my room for the night.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“For whisk time!” Kamryn laughed, but it sounded slightly forced compared to before.

Elia nodded, staying put on the edge of the bed. They’d figure this out eventually. They just needed some space for it. As Kamryn grabbed her jacket, Elia answered, “For whisk time.”