She’d want to forget. Pretend it was a blip on the radar and they could go back to the way things were. Nate knew it was already too late.

He was in love with her.

The shattering conclusion did not come accompanied by harps, choirs singing, or bubbling joy. Instead, he felt like shit. Depressed. Helpless.

Pissed off.

He sifted through all his options. Admit his feelings and beg her to give him a chance. She’d panic, cite a dozen excuses why they wouldn’t work together, and maybe even stop being his matchmaker in an effort to run.

Scratch that one.

Pretend it was one great night of sex and he was already over it. Date Mary, date any woman who was interested, and focus on moving on. Connor would definitely advise this option. If he did that, Nate would come off a stud and keep his man card.

Scratch that one too.

Do nothing. Refuse to talk about it and see what happened. By not analyzing the entire episode, he’d give her enough rope to play the denial game, yet not enough to strangle any future interaction. In other words, leave all options open.

Best one yet.

The door creaked.

She tiptoed a few steps, saw he was up, and froze. A sick smile curved her lips. He craved to tumble her back on the bed, kiss her senseless, and give her the fortieth orgasm she begged him not to give her last night.

Instead, he said the first word that came to mind. “Hey.”

Her smile turned genuine. She tugged at his shirt. “Hey.”

He cleared his throat and threw off the covers. Ignoring his morning wood, he got up from the bed, dragged on his boxers, and turned. Her eyes widened at the sight of his erection, which only made it a hell of a lot worse. “Oh, my. Umm. I better get going. It’s kind of late. Thanks for last night.”

He raised his eyebrow.

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I meant, thanks for letting me crash here. I meant—you know what I meant. Right?”

She was too adorable. There wasn’t another woman alive who had so many layers. She was a sexy hot mess. “Right. But you can’t sneak out just yet.”

“I wasn’t sneaking!”

“Baby, you’re doing the entire walk of shame thing. Not that I’m complaining. But I took good care of you last night, and you owe me something. Something big.”

Her gaze dropped to his straining dick. She swallowed, but the gleam of lust in her eyes almost killed him. “I thought you were satisfied.”

He took a step forward. “Only one thing is going to satisfy me this morning.”

“You’re not being very gentlemanly.” Her voice was breathless and had an edge of arousal. He took a deep breath and smelled her. “I think you got enough.”

“You cut me short on something and you know what it is.”

She trembled. Her tongue snaked out and licked her lower lip. “Maybe if you ask me nicely.”

Another inch and he faced her. He lifted her chin. Her whiskey eyes blurred and he knew one push would put her down on her knees. She’d like it. He’d love it. They could delay the inevitable daylight for an hour more. Or two.

“Then I’m asking.”

His thumb traced her pouty lower lip, picked up the moisture, and brought it to his own mouth to suck. She moaned. “Go ahead.”

“I want you to come—”

“Yes.”

“With me to have breakfast.”

He stepped back. Confusion flickered over her face. “Huh?”

“Breakfast. I’m starving, and there’s nothing good in the kitchen. Let me take a quick shower and we’ll go.”

“I have no clothes.”

“We’ll swing by your place so you can throw on a pair of jeans. Be out in a minute.”

He shut the door behind him, then cranked the water to the coldest setting. The key was to throw her off balance. Maybe with enough time, she’d come to the conclusion she was just as crazy about him. He may not be in her league, but he damned well wasn’t a pussy. Putting up a fight was nothing new to him, and he intended to give her a good one.

It was gonna be a hell of a morning.

AN HOUR LATER, THEY were squeezed into a booth at the Dish and Spoon diner. He asked for a Clorox wipe, cleaned the table on his own terms, and relaxed in the booth as if they hadn’t just had sex a hundred times.

For reasons unknown, Kennedy had meekly followed his plan. Changed into a respectful pair of jeans and clean T-shirt, Coach sneakers, and threw her hair into a messy topknot. Her original plan was to get the hell out of Dodge, give them some space, and have the talk.

Guilt and satisfaction intermingled and fought for dominance. She was setting him up with women from Kinnections and had no right to screw with his head. How could he go on a date with a clear mind and heart when they’d just had a rollicking night of sex? Upon waking, she’d sworn to herself that it wouldn’t happen again. She’d confess to Kate and Arilyn and turn over the rest of Nate’s journey into their capable hands.

Instead, he’d confused her with that mouthwatering naked body and sexy speak. She didn’t even fight him on the diner choice. Her breakfast consisted of fruit and Greek yogurt. The sight of his runny eggs, crisp bacon, and greasy hash browns made her sweat. She stuck with her original order and picked at a ripe strawberry, wondering why she suddenly felt cranky after experiencing a million orgasms.

“Do you know the fat content in that dish?” she pointed out. “That’s more than your daily share of calories per day.”

“I worked out. So did you.” He forked up an egg with a piece of rye toast. The top gleamed wetly with butter. “A bout of standard, missionary sex burns about three hundred calories per hour. An orgasm adds about an additional one hundred calories. Calculating the various positions we used, number of orgasms, and hours divided, we’re looking at about two thousand calories. One egg plus bacon is about one hundred thirty-six calories. Add the hash browns and toast, I’ll still be way under my calorie count for what we burned off last night. Here, have half a strip of bacon. You need the protein.”

Her head spun from his amazing facts and figures regarding sex. She sipped her black coffee and struggled. My God, was it possible to work off that much in one pleasurable evening? “But it’s not even turkey bacon,” she said. She tried hard not to whine.

A smile touched his lips. He broke off half, added a quarter of his egg, and a slice of rye bread. “You need some whole grains and straight protein, sweetheart. Just have a little.”

She licked her lips and studied the food on her plate like sizing up the enemy. “Maybe just a bite.” The moan escaped her the moment her teeth took hold of the crisp strip. Even the scent drove her crazy, and she closed her eyes to savor every bite. “So good.”

He muttered a vicious curse, but she was too gone to care. “What’s on your agenda for today?” he asked.

“Not much. Clean. Work.”

“I need a golf partner.”

She snorted. “I highly doubt it. Besides, you work on Saturdays, right?”

“I need a day off. So do you. And you promised me a favor last night, so I’m collecting.”

Kennedy nibbled on the buttery crust. She realized she should be angry or irritated at him calling in a marker she promised during the height of sex, but the perfect combination of eggs, toast, and bacon had turned her brain to mush. “Fine. But then this entire thing is done with us. Understood?”

“The golf? Yes, I won’t ask you to play golf with me again.”

“And other stuff. All the other stuff.”

“The sex? We can always talk about that later. Let’s not ruin a good breakfast. Here, you have to try one hash brown.”

“Oh, no, I—”

He forked it on her plate. “Just one. They’re tiny.”

“Maybe just one. So about last night. I think—”

“Something’s been bothering me for a while. Wayne—my lab partner—believes in this new groundbreaking physics discovery of time crystals. Quite controversial. Guy from MIT, Wilczek broke the theory, and it’s been dividing camps and causing quite a stir in the physics community. If they prove we can create time crystals, we’re literally contradicting the entire basis of symmetry. Wayne thinks it will change the world. I think there are too many inherent problems from the origin. Though I’m not taking away the excitement of challenging mainstream theories and pushing physics to the next level.”

Relief broke through her. He didn’t want to talk about the sex or their relationship. Maybe he believed, like her, that it was a wonderful evening that shouldn’t go any further. Maybe he’d already accepted they’d spend a few more hours together at the golf course, then part without another word of the encounter. Maybe he’d even begin to date Mary. That would be nice.

Damn, the hash brown was so good. Very tiny, though. Maybe a few more. “They’re claiming it’s possible at this point, not confirming,” she offered. “It’s not like we’re talking time travel here. But to have a timekeeping system for space would be groundbreaking. The energy exists in the lowest possible state so there won’t be any perpetual motion. I’d like to see more research before I jump in and make assumptions. I’m a bit surprised. I always thought of you as a more progressive brain.”

She swiped a potato into the pool of ketchup, which was super low in calories, and smiled as the taste of salt and potato exploded in her mouth. She was so happy.

“I am progressive. I’m also a classicist.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“How long have you been studying physics, Ken?”

The hash brown dropped from her fingers. Shit. One peek at him showed his face as a complete study of concentration. He had the same look last night when he was between her thighs and bringing her to orgasm. Her body clenched in response, and she grew wet. How was he able to do that with just a look? “What are you talking about? I saw it on this science blog when I was searching for ShoeDazzle.com.”