Our breathing is hot and heavy, and the groans coming from my body are audible. I want more. Need more. Knowing we’ve already gone further than this is making me tremble with anticipation. I know it’s going to be good.
“I need you,” I whisper.
“And you’ll have me,” he answers, “but not yet. When you’re ready.”
“I’m ready. I am ready.” I try to put as much conviction into the words as I possibly can, but I know there’s a very small part of me that wants him for reassurance, for comfort.
“Ari, it’s too soon. Everything that’s happened, it’s too soon for you to make decisions like this. I don’t want you to regret it.”
I get it. I totally get it. But I’m also surer than anything that it’s something I wouldn’t regret.
“Let’s just get you properly settled, okay?” He cups my face with his hands and kisses my cheek gently. “Stop pouting, it’s taking every ounce of my self-control to do this but you need it, Ari.”
“Okay. I’ll sort things out and prove to you that I’m ready. It’s my mission.”
“Good girl. Now go and get some sleep.” He pushes off the door and frees me from being caged in-between his arms. He takes a key card from his back pocket and slides it in the door, pushing it open for me to enter. He tucks it back into his pocket and smirks at me.
“Just in case.”
I open my mouth to say something, but I have no response. I know he won’t misuse it or intrude when he’s not wanted. I trust him.
He enters, flicks all the lights on and checks the apartment. Seeming satisfied, he returns to me just inside the door and kisses my lips. It’s a firm kiss, but as platonic as he can make it. I can tell that he’s trying not to start anything again, but it’s hard to be near him and not feel charged.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Arianna. Go to bed.”
He leaves with his trademark dimple firmly in place. I’m still smiling from the inside, and I don’t move even when the door isclosed behind me. Part of me expects him to come straight back in, but I know he has more willpower than this. I listen out for the sound of Denham’s door closing, then I move away and head to bed.
I get undressed and slip on a tank and boy shorts before climbing between the luxurious ruby-red sheets. I’m bone tired and sleep takes me quickly, but the night isn’t kind to me and my slumber doesn’t last nearly long enough. A spectrum of feelings and emotions swirl in my head in such a jumble it’s hard to make sense of them all. I toss and turn, trying to find some peace, but at 3am I finally give in and get up. The bright moonlight lights my way to the kitchen and I can just about find my way around the cabinets. I lift a glass from the top shelf but my hand catches on one of the other glasses as I take it out. As I panic in the dark to try and catch it, the glass I was holding slips out of my fingertips and falls too.
“Shit.” I mutter.
Both glasses fall to the floor and smash into hundreds of little pieces all around me, the sound is deafening in the quiet of the night and it takes a few moments before it is still again. I can’t move. I have bare feet and with only the moonlight I can’t see where the glass lays.
Another loud bang makes me jump, and the front door flies open, bouncing back off the wall behind it.
“Arianna? Arianna!” Denham shouts frantically.
“Denham, be careful there’s glass everywhere.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” I call out to him.
He flicks on the lights. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?” he asks, walking toward me.
“I’m fine, I just wanted some water and the glasses fell.” I gesture to the floor covered in spiky shards.
“Don’t move,” he orders. He’s dressed in loose fitting lounger bottoms—nothing else. I watch as he starts to walk toward me, the muscles on his torso stretch and ripple as he moves.
“Denham, no! Your feet…”
He ignores my protests and navigates the large pieces of glass, but I don’t miss his body tensing as the smaller shards dig into his feet. He puts his arms around my back and dips before sweeping his other arm behind my knees and swinging my legs up, holding me close to him.
He walks back over the glass, being a little more careful now that he has me in his arms, and continues to carry me into the bedroom.
He places me down carefully in the middle of the bed and goes to the bathroom, closing the door without saying another word. He’s hurt, and it’s my fault. I give him a few minutes before I tap gently on the bathroom door.
“Denham…can I come in?” I don’t wait for an answer because I know he’ll tell me he’s fine even if he’s not. I crack open the door slowly and find him perched on the edge of the bathtub pulling tiny pieces of glass from one of his feet.
