Catching feelings for your hot, British neighbor you’d been sexting for the past few days didn’t exactly scream great idea!

I hid a sigh in a sip of wine and put the glass on the coffee table. I wasn’t lying when I said I had no idea how to talk to Isaac. I never had, and I was as sure as shit I never would.

Especially right now.

I wasn’t exactly the most confident person in the world. I never had been, and it was the kind of thing I doubted I ever would be. Unfortunately, I was faced with a situation where I had to have some balls in order to handle it.

I was a little short on balls.

The cat had plenty—both attached to him and under the sofa, but I didn’t have those.

Either. None attached and none under the sofa.

That I knew of.

“You’re doing a good job of ignoring me,” Isaac said after several minutes of silence. “Is there a reason for it?”

I huffed and looked at him. “What do you think? I haven’t exactly been secretive about the fact I don’t want to discuss the whole texting thing.”

He groaned. “Not this again. Hannah, I told you; all you have to do is tell me you’re not attracted to me and it all goes away.”

“But I can’t do that,” I admitted. “I am attracted to you. I’d have to be fucking insane not to be. I wish I wasn’t, believe me.”

His lips twitched. “So what’s the problem?”

“We’ve been over this. I’m not going to repeat myself a thousand times.”

Isaac held up his hands. “Okay. I respect that.”

“You do?”

“What? Do you think I’m going to come over there and kiss the shit out of you just to make you want to sleep with me?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Do you want me to?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Isaac picked up his wine glass from the table and finished it, then put it back down. “When you’re ready to talk about this—both the texts and our mutual attraction, let me know.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as he got up and left the living room, pausing in the doorway to bend down to give Lucifer some attention.

His ass stretched against his black pants.

It was really annoying.

He straightened up and walked to the front door. I knew I should have stood up and called for him, maybe followed him out to finish the conversation, but I didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t think there was anything I could say.

Nothing I wanted to say right now, at least.

I picked up my glass and cradled it to my chest. My front door opened then closed, leaving me sitting in silence.

I closed my lips around the rim of my glass and sat there, staring at the door he’d just walked through.

Had I made a terrible decision?

What would one time hurt?