Heat welled behind her eyes at what had nearly happened. She felt him watching her, but she couldn't find her voice to say anything. Intelligible thought was impossible. So, she swam away.
Avoiding eye contact, she walked out of the water and slipped on the navy-blue cargos and a white tank she'd laid out for herself.
Had "sorry" been an apology for stopping, or for taking it so far? She'd made her intentions pretty damn obvious.
Fuck. That was embarrassing. She thought.
She shook her head, refusing to let herself form a pity party of one.
No, it was mutual. She wouldn't attempt to convince herself that he hadn't wanted her as much as she wanted him. Or let herself overcomplicate things. As usual.
