So if they did this, got too close like this . . . experience dictated it would end sooner or later, and then she would be gone.

Which was simply unacceptable.

Jacob cleared his throat. He knew what to say now. He just hoped he wouldn’t fuck it up. “Thank you for tonight. All of it. You’re . . . you’re a very good friend.”

She laughed a little. “Ouch.”

Great. He was fucking up already. “What? What’s ouch?”

“You know that you’re a very good friend is code for I don’t want to sleep with you again, right?”

Ah. “Well, yes, I did know that, but I more meant that we shouldn’t sleep together, not that I don’t want to.”

Eve bit her lip, pulling the covers over her chest as she sat up. “Oh. Okay. Well . . . yeah. Honestly, you’re probably right. I mean—” She laughed, though the usual sparkle in her eyes was absent. “Why did we even do this? It’s not like we could date.”

Those words really shouldn’t feel like a punch to the gut, but Jacob was apparently ridiculous over this woman, so they did.

“Right,” he said awkwardly, when what he wanted to ask was, Why? Why couldn’t we date? Am I so unsuitable? Or are you thinking of the problems I’m thinking of? Or—

Didn’t matter. Couldn’t ask. If she said something all sweet and brilliant and overwhelmingly Eve, he might throw caution to the wind and do whatever it took to make her his . . . person. And she couldn’t be his person because his people didn’t last.

“Well. Then we’re in agreement,” he managed. “The trouble is, whether we agree on this or not, we will probably continue to be attracted to each other.” He was impressed with himself for making such an understatement with a serious face. “And we spend so much time around each other, mistakes might easily be made.” Even as he said the words, a solution presented itself, glaringly obvious and wonderfully convenient. “But,” he said slowly, his mind still whirring, “there’s an easy way to reduce the risk.” An easy way to put you out of my reach, at least some of the time.

“Is there?” She arched an eyebrow, yet he couldn’t shake the impression that all her expressions were less full of life than usual, a little more mechanic.

Of course, that couldn’t be the case. Because if something was wrong with Eve, she’d just—well, she’d say. She always said. She was beautifully blunt, even now, during the most awkward conversation they’d ever had. So it was probably wishful thinking on his part, his mind searching for evidence that she was dying inside, just like him.

Which she obviously wasn’t, because it was insensible for Jacob to feel this way and no reasonable person should. Not after so little time and so little encouragement. For God’s sake, this time last week they’d hated each other.

“Go on, then,” she said, her voice strangely sharp. Irritated with him already, no doubt. “Give me this mystical solution.”