Mia’s back gently hits the wall, and my hands instinctively spread out on either side of her head. I can smell her shampoo as I take a deep breath and she reaches her hand out and lightly slides it up under my shirt. Her delicate fingers graze over my lower abdomen and up my side. A growl leaves my chest.
Mia, please fucking tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to fucking ruin you because it’s all I can think about.
I watch her eyes move up my body, like she's not sure if what she’s doing is right, but fuck, it's so right, she has no idea how right this feels. Once her eyes meet mine her mouth opens, just the smallest amount and she sucks in a breath of air. Her body is trembling beneath me and I lean my forehead down against hers.
“Mia.” My chest feels tight as I speak.
Her hand starts to gather the bottom of my t-shirt into her fist and I feel the slightest yank before she lets go. She pulls her hand back down, but keeps her body up against the wall. The light keeps flickering and there’s still a humid feeling lingering in this small bathroom as we stand here in silence.
I step back, pulling myself away from her slightly so I can look her in the eyes. I see the desire. I see the spark, the fire, and the sheer curiosity floating around in her giant brown eyes. She wants this, but she isn’t sure about what comes next. I know her so well; I can see it all playing out in her mind as we stare at each other.
She exhales a slow shaky breath before breaking eye contact and slightly turning her head to the side. Mia’s long hair is leaving a small wet patch on the shoulder of her pajama shirt as she stands there. Her chest is moving up and down in deep breaths. The need to hold her, touch her, fucking kiss her is enough to make my skin feel like it’s on fire.
I run my hand through my hair at the same time her big brown eyes look back to me with a yearning stare before she quickly shakes her head back and forth, darting around me and out the bathroom door.
“I’m so sorry,” she says quietly as I turn around, seeing her sitting on the bed.
“You’re sorry for what?”
“We’re best—”
“Say we’rejust best friends, Mia. I dare you.”
“But Nate, we are best friends. And I’ve been making us cross the line and I’m just sorry. I–I think I’m just lonely and I’m misdirecting those feelings. I shouldn’t have put you in that situation the other night either, I’m really sorry for that.”
Ouch.
I scoff as I shake my head. She can’t tell me she isn’t feeling what I’m feeling, or at least even a small percentage of what I feel. These aren't misdirected feelings. I know my best friend. She wants this, but she’s afraid.
“Stop apologizing, Mia.” Both of my hands go up in front of my chest. “I’m a grown man. If I don’t want to do something, I sure as hell don’t have to. You don’t need to apologize for anything. Everything that has happened, I’ve wanted to happen.”
“Since when?” The tone of her question has an edge to it. A challenge, almost. Like she’s testing me. Is this a new realization or something I’ve wanted all along?
“I think I’ve always wanted you.” My voice carries across the room, grabbing her attention. Her head turns back to me as I’m standing in the doorway of the bedroom and bathroom of this hotel room.
“Back in college, you needed a friend and I wanted to be that for you. So I channeled all of my adoration and desire for you into that, into our friendship. I never tried anything again. I told myself I wouldn’t. Not until I knew without a shadow of a doubt that you wanted it too.” Mia sits against the headboard, lips slightly parted, staring at me as I spew out a bunch of things I hadn’t intended on saying.
“So, tell me. Tell me when you want me. I’ll be here. I’ve been here all along.”
Our eyes lock in this confusing, tell-all kind of gaze, as if she’s searching for something.
Mia doesn’t take risks. She doesn’t do things outside of her comfort zone. She’s calculated and assesses everything. She makes choices with her head, not her heart, and she weighs out all potential outcomes before she makes any decisions. She isn’t a fly by the seat of her pants kind of woman. It’s something I’ve admired about her, just her ability to resist the urge to jump into things and instead takes her time. I’m usually an act now, think later kind of guy. We’ve always balanced each other out in that respect. But right now, I hate the fact that she’s a thinker. Because instead of going with the way her body is reacting to me, to us, she’s sitting on this bed overthinking and overanalyzing every single detail of the last few weeks. It’s hard to tell if she wants to give in or if she wants nothing more than to get back home and never speak to me again.
“You remember the frat party?” Her expression softens. The tension that was so visibly making her body stiff has melted away with that question.
I get into the bed next to Mia, turn off the bedside light on the nightstand and lay on my back.
“If you think I forgot about that, you’re dead wrong,” I whisper in the dark. “It was the night of the Homecoming game. You didn’t want to go to the after party, but I promised we wouldn’t stay long. Your shoes were dirty. They were once white converse, but they were fucking trashed. The NWU sweater almost hit your knees. Underneath, I know you had my jersey on, though. The sleeves on the sweater were rolled up, exposing the blue scrunchie around your wrist. You smelled like hot chocolate. Your lips were full and pouty and I wanted to taste them. God, I wanted to touch you. I wanted to push you against the wall in that hallway and kiss you until we both had no otherchoice but to come up for air. I wanted to kiss you, Mia. But you pulled away.”
I feel her shift in the bed and when I glance over, she’s also lying flat on her back staring at the ceiling. There isn’t even the smallest glimmer of light coming from anywhere in this hotel room, it’s pitch black but my eyes adjust to make out her figure next to me. Both of my hands are resting on either side of my body as I take big deep breaths.
“I would’ve bet money you didn’t remember that night,” her soft voice whispers.
“Blocked a little from my memory maybe to protect my precious ego.” I lightly laugh. “But not completely forgotten.”
Her laugh fills the air around us as her hand lands next to mine between us on the bed. I feel the tip of her pinky graze the top of mine before she lets her finger rest just between mine, interlocking them just slightly as we both drift off.
“Are you kidding me? Well, I’m not in town right now… I should be back tonight, so I can call you then, okay?”
