“So this isn’t just about sex? Talk to me, baby. I’m all ears. If you wanna move to the couch, it’ll be better for your back.”
Uh, huh, like he cares about my back. I’m sitting, and I admit it’s not all that comfortable, but getting naked is only gonna lead to one thing.
“I’m sure that’s a huge priority for you.” My tone is just as sarcastic as it always is, but a little pleading at the same time.
“Hey, I didn’t saybed, did I?”
“I’m still mad at you about this morning.” Despite my reluctance to lie on said couch, I still do it because my muscles ache more than I’ll admit out loud.
“For givin’ you an orgasm before you’d even downed your first cup of coffee?” He piques a brow as I turn to scowl at him.
I huff. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“But it’s true.”
“Shut up and keep those hands moving as fast as your mouth is.”
“You know that’s a synonym for somethin’ dirty.”
This man drives me nuts. I swear to god. “Like you didn’t come all the way up here for more of the same.” I slide my shirt over the top of my head, leaving my sports bra on.
“I didn’t, as it happens,” he says. “I came to see if you’d like to get dinner.”
“Right.”
“How am I meant to massage your shoulders with a bra on?”
“You’ll work it out.”
“I’m only gonna touch you like that when you make it clear you want it,” he says. “I mean, this mornin’ you dragged me into that bathroom. I take it Connor wasn’t quite cuttin’ the mustard?”
“I never slept with Connor,” I say honestly. “I don’t sleep with anyone on the first or second date.”
“What about the third?”
“That’s really none of your business.”
“It’s all my business since we’re givin’ things another shot. Somethin’ we should discuss when one of us isn’t topless.”
I remember his words from this morning:‘Stop beatin’ around the bush. I want another shot with you, Willow. Whatever it takes.’
The crazy thing is, I didn’t think we could ever go back, but now I’m not so sure. We work. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve never had that spark with anyone other than him.
I can’t keep doing this to myself. Living without him has been torture enough, but the only time we seem to ever have a deep and meaningful conversation is when we’re naked.
I told him today it was just sex, but I didn’t mean it. I’m not denying the sex isn’t mind blowing — it is — but we’re lying to ourselves if we keep doing what we’re doing without any consequences. Neither of us have been able to move on.
“Did you mean it?” I ask out of the blue.
He halts his ministrations for a beat. “Did I mean what? Us havin’ another shot?”
“No.” I take a breath. “Two years ago you said you hadn’t been with another woman since we broke up.”
“Ah, and you wanna know if I’ve been with anyone since we last hooked up?”
“That would mean it’s been five years, so that’s not possib?—”
“I’ve never slept with anyone except you since we were eighteen.”
