Why now? Why now? Of all the times he had to ask about an "encore" to our little performance, why did it have to be now?

I wasn't ready yet. I needed time. Time to think, time to plan. I wanted to find a way to explain everything to Mason without hurting or upsetting him in some way. I wanted us to end things on good terms.

I wasn't really worried about him being vengeful or anything like that. Honestly, he just didn't strike me as the type. That said, I didn't want to end things harshly either.

I wasn't lying earlier when I said that I liked him. Sex or not, he was one of the few people—hell, who was I kidding, the only person I felt like I could have an actual conversation with in this picture perfect nightmare of a neighborhood. The last thing I wanted was to burn bridges with the first person in forever who I actually felt some kind of connection with.

But maybe burning this bridge was what I needed to do. That way I wouldn't be stupid enough to cross it again.

I could lie to myself all I wanted. I could try to say that this was a one-time thing, that we were just having some casual fun, that it would never happen again. But I knew they were all lies.

The simple truth was, I didn't have the willpower to resist him like that. If I did, would I have ever opened my curtains again after that first night? Would I have kept putting on those little window shows? Would I have started calling and texting him? Would I be here right now?

No. If I stayed in contact with him, then I was sure it would happen again. And again. And again.

Still, I just couldn't stand the idea of letting go of somebody who made me feel the way he did. Both in bed and in life in general. Maybe that made me flaky. Maybe that made me selfish. But most of all, it made me feel hopeless.

"Is it your husband?"

Mason's voice was low and calm. His face was gentle with a sort of somber understanding.

I let out a dry laugh and shook my head. "No. That's honestly the least of my concerns with this whole situation."

"Then what's the most of your concerns?" he asked, forcing a smile on his face. "The last thing I want to do is pressure you if you're not into this. I mean, I get it. We never exactly agreed that this would be a regular thing or anything.

"But I do like you. And I would like to keep this up if you're up for doing it too. So, what concerns do you have exactly? Maybe we can work it out somehow."

I drummed my fingers on the table, thinking carefully. What concerns did I have? About a million. And the number just seemed to keep growing every time I thought about it. However, I guess there was one thing I could start with that had been nagging at me for a while now.

"Well, to start, I guess I want to know what your motivation is in all of this," I said pointedly. "Not to be rude, but you seem awfully invested in keeping up whatever the hell this thing is between us. And unusually so for a woman you've known less than a week and slept with once."

"Twice, technically!" He beamed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He immediately slouched down, defeated. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, giving a small shrug.

"Okay, okay. Bad timing on the joke. Sorry," he mumbled awkwardly.

However, it didn't take him long to regain his composure. He sat up straight, looking me firmly in the eyes. "Alright, first, I'll admit that you're right. I have been kind of pushy about us keeping this going. But I swear I don't have any hidden agenda or sinister motivation for it. I just like you.

"You're sweet, you're funny, you're sexy as hell. It's fun being around you. So, yes, I'd like to keep this going a little longer if I can get away with it.

"Coworkers suck, the neighbors suck, but you don't suck. At least, not in any way I mind."

He smiled as he said it. However, my unamused face probably indicated to him that this was still not the appropriate moment for jokes. He let out a defeated sigh.

"Look, like I said, if you're really not into it, then I won't push the issue. I get it. I do. A fling's a fling. God knows I never liked it when any of mine got this clingy," he half-commented to himself. "That said, I had fun with you today. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but up until this point, it seemed like you were having fun too."

A sheepish smile crept its way onto my lips. I guess he had me there. I couldn't deny that I'd had a lot of fun with him today. Both during and after sex. And I guess his "motivation" for wanting to keep this up didn't really sound that different from mine.

"Alright, fine," I admitted. "I did have fun with you today."

"So why not keep having fun?" He asked cheerfully. "It doesn't have to be anything serious. Besides, it's not like we could be together all the time anyway. I have a job, you have your husband and whatnot. But why not meet up when we can? You know, just your average friends-with-benefits situation."

As he always did, he made it seem so tempting. I mean, hadn't I been thinking of us as "friends with benefits" this whole time anyway? What was so wrong with just officiating that title by acknowledging it out loud? Like he said, it was nothing serious.

But still...

"What about the neighbors?" I commented. "We got lucky today with Greta, but we can't guarantee that that will always be the case.

"Gossip spread like wildfire in places like these. People literally don't have anything better to do than gossip about other people's lives. And 'friends' or not, a married woman frequently visiting a single man when her husband is out is definitely going to stir up some whispers."

He nodded along, listening carefully. "Alright, that's a fair point. But I think it's something we can work around. I mean, we managed to do it once. Plus, it's not like we'd be doing this every day either. We can just meet up whenever we have an opportunity. In the meantime... Well, you can just keep your curtains open at night."

He finally did it. Against all odds and despite my best efforts he finally did it. In this mess of a situation, in this high-stakes game where I could lose it all, in the middle of this serious and life-changing decision I was about to make, he somehow found a way to make me laugh.

He smiled triumphantly as the laughter burst through my lips. "Finally. I was starting to worry you might never smile again."

I snickered and shook my head as I looked down at the coffee cup in my hands. How strange. Before today I felt like I barely ever smiled. At least, not sincerely. And now, here I was, doing it so often that he was actually worried when I stopped for a while. It was a strange feeling indeed.

"Alright, what else?" he asked. "Let's keep them coming. What else is worrying you about this?"

That was a good question. What else was worrying me?

We'd already talked through his motives and the neighbors, which were my two biggest concerns. There was nothing he could really do about the Eli situation, so there was no point in boring that up. What else did I have that was worrying me about all this?

"Well... I guess this isn't really a 'worry' per se, but umm..."

"Ask it anyway," he insisted. "Couldn't hurt to ask and I'd rather put your mind at ease if I can."

I gave him a weak smile. "Thanks... Umm... I know it's a little personal, so feel free not to answer if it's a touchy subject or anything like that, but... umm... about your... pool not having any swimmers..."

His face flickered with understanding. "Ah, that. Don't worry it's not a touchy subject for me. What do you want to know?"

"Umm... how, I guess."

He shrugged vaguely. "Genetics. I was born that way. I think, at least. I mean, it's not exactly like they test for that kind of thing at birth.

But I've never had any kind of injury that would have caused it, and they say everything else down there works fine, so the consensus was that it was probably just 'bad genes.' I don't mind though. I never really wanted kids so it's kind of a lucky break on my part."

"You don't want kids?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

He made a face. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Little miracles, God's gift to Earth, and all that crap."

"No, no. I wasn't judging. I was just a little surprised, I guess. You strike me as the kind of guy who would do really well with kids," I explained.

His body seemed to relax at the comment. Not that I could blame him for being tense. Nine times out of ten the people who say things like that really are about to climb onto their soapbox of "kids are the best." It made sense that he'd be on his guard about it.

"Oh. Umm... Well, you're not exactly wrong I guess," he admitted. "I do get along well with kids. Hell, they're even kind of fun to be around sometimes. Just not all the time.

"I don't hate kids or anything. I just don't think I'm cut out for being a dad. I like to think of myself as more of the 'fun uncle' type. You know, fill them up with candy and junk food, take them out to a movie or amusement park, then drop them back with their parents when it stops being fun."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah, I get that."

"Yeah, speaking of which, what about you?" he asked. "I was surprised when that woman mentioned that you and your husband didn't have any yet. You strike me as the type that would make a great mom."

I felt the involuntary grimace forming on my face. Mason snickered at it.

I glanced down at my cup again. I usually didn't like talking about this. Especially with how preachy some people could be about it. But I guess Mason wasn't exactly the standard "kids are a miracle" soapbox person that I had to worry about.

"Well... It's kind of like you said," I explained. "I don't hate them or anything, but I don't want to be a parent either. I practically raised my brother when we were kids, so I guess that kind of put me off to the idea of having any myself."

"Oof, the old 'sibling parent' resentment thing?"

"Not exactly. I love my brother. He's my best friend. I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to him. I guess it's more like... Well, like I said, I raised him.

I was the one getting him ready for school in the mornings, taking him to and from doctor's appointments, making sure he was washed and fed each day. Eli basically was my child. So, now that I'm older, I don't know... I'm just kind of 'parented out,' I guess. Like I already raised my kid, so I don't want any more. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, I kind of get it," he said, nodding along. "I mean, plenty of people have one kid and don't want another because of how tough it was. Basically, you just earned your stripes earlier than most."

"Glad you see it that way at least," I sighed.

Then, he did something I didn't expect. Without a word, Mason reached across the table and covered my hand with his own. He had a gentle smile on his face, full of sympathy and understanding. And I was surprised. Not by the fact that he did it. But by how it made me feel.

The warmth from his hand seemed to spread up my arm and throughout my body. Not like how his touch usually made me feel though. This warmth was soft and comforting. Like being wrapped in a cozy blanket on a freezing-cold day.

It felt so nice. And a little bit scary.

I pulled my hand away and ran it through my hair nervously, clearing my throat. "So, uh, my hair is almost dry. We should probably do some more of that 'unpacking' before it gets too late. Have to get back home eventually, you know."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Right."

He agreed easily enough, but I could see the reluctance on his face as he did so. I chugged down the last of my coffee and stood up. I walked towards the living room with my heart pounding.

God, what was wrong with me? Why was I getting so worked up over something so small? Was I really so starved of affection and understanding that a simple act of human kindness made me feel like this?

I knelt on the floor in front of one of the boxes and started grabbing some things out of it. I heard Mason's footsteps behind me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him kneeling down next to me. Not that that was odd. After all, he was probably unpacking too. I didn't give it too much thought.

Until I felt his arms wrap around me from behind.

As my back pressed into his chest and his strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, it again, sent my heart racing wildly. I felt his face nuzzle against my hair, the strangest mixture of longing and anxiety building in me as he did.

"Hey, Maggie?" he murmured gently.

"Yes?" I asked, trying my best to keep my composure.

"I really want to see you again..."

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a request. Just a simple statement. And yet, the longing in his voice made it sound like so much more than that.

Or maybe that was just my wishful thinking. The excuse that I made to hide the truth from myself: that it was actually me who wanted to see him again. To see him, and hear him, and feel his arms wrapped around me like this once more. To have him make my body ache and my heart flutter in ways that I could have only ever imagined. To be with him here again.

"I really want to see you again too," I almost whispered.

His hand reached up and rested under my chin, tilting my face towards him. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

I knew that I shouldn't be doing this. That continuing as we were would only lead to misery and heartbreak in one way or another. That this little affair of ours was doomed to fail before it even started. And we would both end up suffering because of it.

But he held me close and kissed me tenderly. He made my heart leap and my head spin. He stole the breath from my lungs and the strength from my body. And as he pulled away from me, he looked at me with eyes so warm and gentle that, for a moment, I was able to forget it all.