“Izzy.” Bradley kisses me softly on the lips as he hands off Kevin’s leash. “Guess we’re both pretty happy to see you.”
Kevin’s snorts turn to flat-out squeals as I bend down to scratch his ears. “Hey, friend. It’s been too long.”
Nosing me aside, Kevin trots straight into the living room and makes a beeline for his pet bed. I trail after him and unclip the leash, stopping to scratch beneath his neckwear.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask Bradley as he slips off his own bowtie and lays it on the counter.
“My mother’s idea,” he says. “They’re from my sister’s wedding a few years ago. Mom thought it would be a cute way to present Kevin for his new living arrangement.”
“And it is.” I move toward Bradley, unable to keep my distance as I twine my fingers behind his neck and stretch up on tiptoe to kiss him
He responds like I’ve dumped kerosene on a fire, deepening the kiss as I moan and press against him. It’s like I’m starved for human contact, or maybe just for Bradley. He’s warm and solid and delicious and I can’t seem to draw back.
“Mmm.” He kisses me harder, sliding his hands around my back to cup my backside. We kiss like that until we’re both breathless, and he looks dazed when he draws back. “Hello to you, too.”
“Hi.” God, how did I end up doing this again? I take a step back to put some distance between us, reminding my silly, hammering heart that this isn’t helpful. “How’s your week going?”
“Good. I missed you.” He releases his hold on my body, but my heart sticks to him like a gummy worm on a shoe. “Be right back. I left the food in the truck.”
He breaks away, and I take a moment to compose myself. I need to tell him tonight. I need to make it clear that I’m leaving, that there’s more than one good reason I can’t stay.
Needing to distract myself, I turn back to Kevin. He’s sprawled across the plaid cedar bed, looking supremely content. “We’re going for a walk later, okay? No falling into bed with Bradley.”
Kevin looks at me and oinks, agreeing to my terms. I wish it were that easy.
Bradley bursts back through the door, two paper bags in his hands. “I may have gone a bit overboard,” he says. “I wasn’t sure if you preferred curry or something milder, so I got a bunch of different things.”
“Thank you.” I peer into one of the bags, breathing in the scent of spices and fresh herbs. “This smells amazing. It’ll be nice to have leftovers when I’m running around dealing with wedding stuff.”
“Kinda my thought,” he says as he starts unpacking the food. “I remember how nuts things were when Julia got married. If it’s that stressful for the family, I can’t even imagine what it’s like when it’s your own wedding.”
I laugh and pick up a warm box of naan bread. “No kidding. Remind me to elope someday.” The words slip out before I can catch them, and I meet Bradley’s eyes in horror. “I don’t know why I just said that.”
He tears off a piece of bread and pops it in his mouth, eyeing me curiously. “No big deal.” A pause. “Is it?”
There’s a roaring in my ears, a scream I’ve heard again and again these past few weeks.
Tell him. Tell him.
I don’t say anything. I don’t know where to start, but I know I can’t keep doing this.
Maybe he senses my fumbling, because he takes a step closer and draws me into his arms. I lean into him, absorbing his strength, his kindness. My chest aches from wanting this so badly while my brain pounds its gavel against my skull, reminding me what’s at stake. As Bradley plants a kiss on my temple, I feel a tear slip down my cheek.
I beg it not to drip on his arm, not to give me away before I’m ready to have this conversation. I know I’m out of time, but I’m not sure how to say this. How do you tell the man you might love that you’re an awful excuse for a human?
“Iz?” His lips brush the top of my ear. “You got kinda stiff all of a sudden. What’s up?”
I take a shaky breath as I fight for courage. For the strength to finally be honest. “I—” The words die in my throat. As I squeeze my eyes shut, another tear leaks out.
“What is it, Izzy?” Another kiss, this one at the top edge of my cheekbone. “I can’t help if you won’t let me in.”
Another tear falls and another, accompanied by a bitter choke of laughter. The idea that this can be fixed, that there’s any way out of this, it’s too much. His kindness right now, when I deserve none, is more than I can bear.
“Bradley.” I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the fact that everything’s about to change.
I don’t want it to, but I need to get this out. I can’t keep doing this to the kindest man I’ve ever met. I was a fool to think a man like that could have a no-strings fling.
Or that I could. What an idiot I’ve been.
I take a step back and try to breathe, but my chest is too tight. It’s a physical reaction to the loss of his touch, the knowledge of what I’m about to say. When I meet his eyes, the bottom falls out of my belly.
“Bradley.” My voice croaks this time, weak and unattractive.
That’s exactly how I feel, but it’s about to get worse. He’s about to hate me, maybe as much as I hate myself.
His eyes search mine, smile faltering just a little. “You’re scaring me, Iz. Did you get bad news from your doctor?”
It’s such a Bradley thing to go straight to a medical crisis, and my heart wrings itself into a tight, soggy ball. I don’t deserve this man, this gentle, compassionate soul.
I shake my head, struggling to find my voice. “It’s not medical. There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” His brow furrows, and he tries to step closer. “Izzy? Whatever it is, we can face it together.”
I close my eyes as more tears fall, as the happy space I’ve built here crumbles into a big, dusty heap. When I open my eyes and meet his, my heart splits in two.
“No,” I whisper. “No, we can’t.”
Chapter 12
Bradley
As I study the shimmering tears in Izzy’s eyes, I know what I’m about to hear won’t be standard cold feet. Not “I’m afraid of these feelings” or “let’s take things slower.”
Maybe not even “I’m just not into you,” though I’m braced for that. I’m braced for anything but the pain etched on her face.
“Iz?”
She shakes her head, and a tear slips down her cheek. Dashing it away with the heel of her hand, she takes a shaky breath. “This is all my fault.”
“What’s your fault? Talk to me, Iz.”
I touch her elbow, and she flinches but doesn’t draw away. “That,” she whispers, closing her eyes. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I drop my hand, confused. “Me touching you?”
“No, the way I feel when you touch me,” she says. “This was only meant to be a fling.”
“Okay,” I say, regrouping a little. “So we slow things down. Just keep it casual. Or if you want, I know this great couples’ therapist my sister saw when—”