“Please stop punishing me.”
A smile flashes over her face, and she pats the bed beside her.
Her bed is so small, and I’m finally able to look around her room.
It looks too young for her. Posters are still strewn up on the wall, embellishments and pictures from her in high school.
Her trophies from sports.
Very different from the only other time I’ve been in here, where pink and purple dominated the space and stuffed animals clogged up her bed—princess themed.
Neither of those versions fits her now as the adult she so clearly is.
My hands clench into fists again at the reminder.
It’s so hard not to touch her, especially since that’s all I’ve seemed to think about since she kissed me.
It’s not like we didn’t touch—cuddle and hold hands—before, but that kiss changed everything. For me at least.
Drew laughs softly beside me, but not at my turmoil. She peers around her room knowingly. “They left everything the way it was while I was gone. I haven’t changed anything because it feels like a decision I’m not ready to make yet.”
My heart seizes in my chest, readily dousing me with a pain I can’t protect myself from. “If you’re going to stay.”
She nods.
I take her hand, reminding me again of the last time I was here.
She leans into my shoulder like then, too. She was nine.
Her parents had a big fight, one that took them out to the lawn, throwing things and screaming.
Daisy had been away, and I snuck in to find Drew huddled on the floor beside her bed, crying.
Always so sensitive to her parents’ moods.
Her hand squeezes mine, bringing me back to the present and the warmth of her against my side. “I was mad at first, but I’m not anymore. More embarrassed.”
Taking a deep breath, I try this again. I’m not so great with words when it comes to emotions. “It’s not that I didn’t want to.”
Her face turns to look at me, and I feel that same heat.
The desire to kiss her, to tuck her under me, to feel all that smooth skin she has on display right now.
When she stands, my heart sinks a little, but then she’s standing between my knees, fingers tracing the tattoo down my throat.
It’s like she zaps life into me.
No other woman has ever made me react quite like this.
Physical attraction, sure.
A lack of indifference and maybe even enjoyment of their company.
Yeah.
But not this.
Not the all-consuming necessity to hold onto her and never let go. Knowing that without her, my life is bland. A ticking away of time without a real purpose.
