No matter how I lay in bed, I couldn’t get comfortable. It wasn’t the mattress. I had paid a fortune for it and it usually cradled me like a big, white, fluffy cloud. Tonight it was a lumpy gray thunderhead, fighting me at every turn.
Time stretched out for me in the darkness. I felt every second now that I was apart from Clara again. She was just down the hall, but she might as well be in outer space. That would have been better actually. Then I wouldn’t be forced to restrain myself, relying on willpower alone to keep from acting on my urges.
Desire rampaged through me like a wild beast. I wanted to kick her door down and tear her clothes off. I wanted to drag her onto the roof like King fucking Kong and shout at the world that she was mine. I wanted to make her come so hard she forgot her own name.
Instead, I was alone in my bed, wondering if there was a way to tie myself to the bedframe without another person’s help.
I dropped to the floor and did some push-ups, setting a punishing rhythm. The restless energy had to go somewhere. Sweaty and breathless, the thoughts still tormented me.
I should have picked someone else. Someone there was no chance of me falling for her. Maybe someone who spoke a different language, ensuring we could never connect on a personal level like I had with Clara.
This deal had tainted everything. I would always worry the money was influencing her. Gratitude could make people want things they didn’t normally. It could make people attracted to someone they normally wouldn’t be. People fell in love with their doctors all the time because they made them feel better.
Our situation was no different. She had stars in her eyes when she looked at me, but had I purchased that affection? I never wanted to feel like I bought my way into her pants or her heart.
When we had reconnected, her life wasn’t on the best trajectory. She was out of work, moving back in with her parents, and struggling with feelings of self-worth. Then I swooped in like her fairy godfather and held a big wad of cash over her head, promising to make all her worries go away.
If she thought I wanted to have sex with her, of course she would feel obligated to give me what I want. But I never wanted her to feel any kind of pressure like that. If anything was going to happen between us again, I had to know she wanted me for real.
She would have to make the next move.
I slept in fits and starts and finally gave up when the sun peeked through the windows. With a sigh, I threw the tangled sheets off me and got up to splash some water on my face. It didn’t do much to wake me up but it washed away some of the desperate feelings tearing me up.
Caffeine. That was next. A nice hot espresso to banish the sleepy demons possessing me. Then I could stare pensively out the windows and try to get my thoughts in order before Clara woke up and threw my world back into sexy chaos.
She was already in the kitchen.
Clara turned toward me with a shy smile on her face, like she was happy to see me but wasn’t sure if she should be. It broke down the walls I’d been working all night to build up around my heart.
“You’re up early,” I said, feeling it was a safe topic.
“I’m perfecting the use of your espresso machine,” she said. “Would you like some?”
“I’d love some. Thank you.” I knew I needed to say something about the night before, about the kiss we shouldn’t have indulged in. I had been beating myself up about it all night, and the problem didn’t seem more manageable in the light of day.
Clara looked at me, at my lips, then took a breath like she was also remembering how we’d parted last night. I had to brace my hands on the kitchen island to restrain myself from taking her right then and there.
All the lectures I had given myself the night before hadn’t worked, apparently. I wanted her just as much, if not more. Something was wrong with me for sure. I was never like this.
“Did you sleep okay?” Clara asked, smiling.
I chuckled darkly, shaking my head at her. “Do you enjoy pressing all my buttons and getting under my skin?”
She cocked her head, confused. “Is that what I’ve been doing?”
I wagged a finger at her. “All I’m saying isthiscan’t actually happen.”
Clara grinned. “We’re just having coffee, aren’t we?”
I rounded the island. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Doing what?”
“Being perfect. Wooing my coworkers until the entire office worships the ground you walk on, having everyone wrapped around your finger.”
She just stared at me, shocked. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To impress your coworkers?”
“Yes, and you’re doing an amazing job,” I said. “Especially pretending to be my girlfriend. In fact, I didn’t sleep at all last night because I kept replaying that kiss.”
