My heart seemed to swell into a heavy beating beast as I contemplated whether to help him bridge the gap between us. I’d be risking my heart, I knew it. It might be just lust for him, but I was attached. To both him and his daughter. Shit. It would hurt when I left. It had fucking killed me this morning, saying goodbye to Dauphine and leaving without seeing Xavier one last time. Maybe it was better to leave us uncomplicated.

“You asked what I wanted to be to you,” I said quietly. I watched his hands on the railing clench tight. “How about …” God. This was it. Make the first move, or not. After the way I’d felt leaving this morning, after what we’d shared last night. No. I couldn’t do it again. “How about … just … friends.”

He inhaled through his nose and closed his eyes.

“Of course.” Then he pushed away from the railing. His hand went up to his hair, and he turned away, then back. Then he turned away a final time and went inside.

His departure was like a flame being snuffed out. I was a chicken shit.

I stood there, breathing in the wind, and wondering if I’d made a mistake. I examined my hesitancy. And his. Yes, Dauphine complicated things. I wasn’t a stranger. I had attachments to his family. But I also wasn’t living here. I was going home, if not on Thursday, then in a few weeks. No one was asking for a commitment. I wasn’t. I couldn’t. I had a life to head back to. A career to rebuild. This wasn’t some fairytale. Who said we couldn’t just enjoy each other for a couple of days? Get it out of our systems and move on? For a second I let my tightly-reined in mind go and conjured the image of him and me together.

The chemistry of last night.

No clothes between us.

My belly went into free-fall, and I struggled to catch myself and turn off the images.

I drew a shaky breath and replayed our conversation. I’d offered simple friendship. Of course, he’d said. Had his reaction been relief or disappointment? This was Xavier Pascale we were talking about. He was the kind of man who went after what he wanted. He hadn’t gotten to where he was in life by not going for it. He didn’t wait for permission. He created opportunity. So what was different about this situation? Didn’t he trust me to not make it emotional?

Was I capable, at this stage, of not making it emotional?