He slips out of my arms, and we stand looking at each other. My throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls at his confirmation that somethinghaschanged between us. It’s been happening since Saturday. I knew I wasn’t imagining it.
He gives me a moment to absorb his words before his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear, softly grazing my skin and leaving a warm trail of heat that spreads to other places. Specifically, between my thighs.
“But you’re not giving us a name,” I murmur. Neither am I.
He hums low, like the truth is about to come out of hiding from underneath his tongue. “Maybe I like the tension.”
I swallow hard. “That sounds torturous.”
“No,” he says, his voice steady, making adrenaline thump loudly and rush through my body. “It feels a lot like foreplay.”
And there it is. More confirmation that I haven’t been imagining his advances.
He steps back, just enough to leave me standing in the heat he left behind. And yet, there’s no kiss. No move from either of us. Just words that could be the start of something unraveling.
“Is that what you want? More?” I ask on a whisper.
“You have no idea what I want, beautiful. Sleep tight.” With a final wink, he turns on his heel and walks out the door, leaving me standing in a haze of confusion as my pulse pounds through my veins.
What does he want? One night? A friends with benefits arrangement? More? What exactly? I have so many questions.
I place the earbuds of my stethoscope into my ears, then place the chest piece over my heart. Instantly, my heartbeatwhooshes abnormally in my ears, confirming what I already knew. “Why does it feel like I’m having a heart attack?” I mutter to myself before lying down on the bed and pointing my feet upward, resting them against the headboard to regulate my pounding heart.
Did that seriously just happen? Did I hear him correctly, or am I really losing it?
Feeling giddy, a wide smile stretches my lips.
Our friendship might notjust bea friendship anymore; on Saturday, the lines started to blur, and I don’t know what changed.
Whatever it is, it’s gaining momentum, and there doesn’t seem to be any way to stop it or ignore it anymore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Erika
Me:
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.
Lucia:
Phew, she’s alive. We’ve been so worried about you.
Sofia:
I, for one, was not. Lucia was fretting more than me.
Lucia:
Liar.
Sofia:
OK, maybe I’ve paced the floors for a little too long, but I knew you were fine because Lily called us both.
Lucia:
How are you feeling this fine Friday morning?
