“I get where you’re coming from.” My voice comes out croaky and I look at my lap so I don’t have to meet his eyes. “I felt so confused because you suddenly started pulling away, and you gave me reasons why, but I couldn’t help worrying I’d done something wrong.”
“I know. I hate that I made you feel that way.”
“Even on Friday night, you kissed me, and we were almost naked and…” I blink hard. “And I thought everything was fine, but as soon as I brought up having sex, you started breaking up with me.”
“I know,” Aaron says. “I know, and it was stupid, and I’m sorry. I guess I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to end things, but I felt like I had to before everything was ruined. I deluded myself into thinking that a few last kisses with you would be okay. Because I wanted to kiss you so much. And…” he trails off, and I look up to see him swallowing. “I wanted to have sex with you and do everything with you, but I knew I couldn’t, not when I knew who you were and you didn’t know who I was. I really didn’t mean to trick you or confuse you or anything. And I’m sorry I did.”
I nod. “I understand why you did what you did. To be honest, if I was in your position, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” I suck in a deep breath. “It’s a relief, to be honest. That you didn’t actually want to break up with me.”
“Of course, I didn’t. I don’t.” Aaron pushes himself off the bed as if to approach me, then catches himself and sits back down. “I really like you, Jude, and it’s killing me that I hurt you the way I did because you don’t deserve it.”
I nod. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been cruel and impolite and unkind. I like you too. You must know that, since I started begging you to stay when you were ending things.” I laugh self-deprecatingly, but Aaron’s face saddens.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he murmurs. “I really don’t.”
I walk over and sit beside him on the bed. He looks at me. He’s so close, I can feel the heat of his skin, as well as see with crystal clear vision the distraught in his eyes.
“Are you still angry with me?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Do you still want to end things?”
He shakes his head. “I never wanted to.”
I look at him, hoping he’ll say it.
“Maybe...” He presses his lips together. “If you want to…we could keep seeing each other?”
I nod. “I want to.”
“Me too,” he says.
I see how his gaze flits to my lips almost in slow motion. His shoulders are sloped down with exhaustion, but he’s still Aaron, and when he leans forward and kisses me, the sensation and taste is so familiar that I remember he’s my R. I part my lips as I kiss him back, hard and desperate and hungry, and unlike all of our other kisses, this feels different. Relief floods me as I curl my fingers into his clothes, and his palms slide up the sides of my body. It’s him, it’s R, it’s Aaron, and he’s kissing me back. He still wants me, and I still want him.
When we pull back to catch our breath, his pupils are dilated, and he’s breathing hard, his cheeks starting to colour. Pure desire tugs at me from deep in my abdomen. I’ve been missing out on this, the sight of him just kissed, for months.
I press my lips against his again, and we get more aggressive, letting out hisses and grunts, and I want to shove him backwards so he’s flat on my bed.
Then there’s a knock on my door. “Jude?” My Mum calls.
Aaron jumps back from me like he’s been caught doing something naughty.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “What?” I ask. God, why now?
She opens the door, and Aaron grabs my pillow and puts it on his lap so fast, it’s comical. I cross my legs.
“I’ve cut some fruit,” she says, bringing over a plate with apples and oranges.
“Thank you, Ms Seymour,” Aaron says.
“Thanks,” I say because I don’t want to be rude to Mum, especially in front of Aaron, but I give her a look that says: what the hell, Mum?
She replies with a look that says: don’t get up to any trouble.
As she leaves, she keeps the door cracked open behind her. Aaron turns red. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, although I know that if a teacher at school saw me like this, I’d feel like dying too. “Honestly, it’s probably for the best my mum interrupted us before we got carried away.”
Aaron drags a finger down my arm. “I want to get carried away,” he murmurs.
