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“We just take one day at a time,” she says patiently. “That’s all any of us can really do. That’s allwecan do.”

Nodding, I know she isn’t going to give me a chance to walk away from this, and despite all the reasons old habits and history told me to do so, I want to listen to her and I want so badly to stay.

Standing, she moves that little bit closer to me and kisses one corner of my mouth. “What do you say?” And then the other. “Do this with me?”

I move my head, wanting her to kiss either side of my mouth again, before cradling her face, capturing her lips with mine and finally answering her question.

Yes. I say yes. I’ll do this with you.

21

ZARA

“What are you doing?” Clementine’s unused morning voice fills the room.

“Shh.” I continue to bury my nose in her hair. “If we don’t talk, then we’re not truly awake, and if we’re not truly awake, then we don’t have to say goodbye.”

It’s the most ridiculous, childlike logic, but I’m here for it. Already curled around her, I tighten my arm draped across her waist and bring her back flush with my front. It’s Monday morning; we both need to get to work, and Raine will be back in L.A. later this afternoon.

Of course I miss my daughter, but this bubble Clementine and I have created together has been everything I wanted it to be and then some. The only problem is that being with her, with no disruptions and complete access to her mind and her body, has solidified that I don’t want to let this woman go.

Not for a minute.

Not for a day.

Not for a lifetime.

My feelings for her are big—toobig,toosoon—but I can’t seem to slow them down. And at this point in my life I don’t think I even want to. I know Clementine thinks she’s the inexperienced one out of the two of us, but just because I know my way around a woman’s body doesn’t mean I have any idea on what to do with a woman’s heart.

Hers or mine.

“Maybe if we skip breakfast, we can stay here longer,” Clementine suggests.

“But I was going to cook for you this morning.”

It’s a silly thing to fixate on, but I want to have my cake and eat it too. I want to pack our two days together with all the things we won’t be able to do with one another while Raine is home. We’re doing it all backward, not at all conventional, but nothing about my life has ever been conventional, so what’s the point in starting now.

Turning, Clementine grabs my hand and guides it between us

“I think this”—she then mirrors the action on me, cupping my sex and making her intentions known—“might be a better use of our time.”

The green in her eyes is alive and vibrant as I hold her gaze and slide my fingers through her folds, not even a little surprised to feel her arousal on my fingertips. She’s insatiable, her confidence evolving every time we touch.

I lower my mouth to the crook of her neck, sucking on her skin as I tease and stroke her, my own body coming alive every time I touch hers. I hike my leg up and around her hip, opening myself wider to her as fingers slip inside me.

It never gets old, that full feeling, the deep sensation as she finds a steady rhythm, thrusting her fingers in and out of me. My mouth meets hers, teeth clashing and tongues feasting; a small spark morphing into an unmanageable flame in minutes. Desperation growing between us, our hands moving faster, the race against the clock heightening everything about this moment.

“Zara,” she moans, her eyes boring into mine as my slick fingers continue to rub at her clit. “It’s too much.”

Even in the heat of the moment there is a vulnerability in both her expression and her words that steals my breath. She isn’t just talking about her impending orgasm, she’s talking about us.

Toosoon,toobig,toomuch.

My heart grows two sizes too big, my chest struggling to contain everything that is transpiring between us. I fuse my mouth to hers, using the only coherent form of communication I have available to me at this moment.

I want her to know I feel it too.

All of it.