“Baby?”
“Hm?”
I open my eyes and say, “I don’t want you to cut all ties with Evora.”
“I told you, I don’t mind if—”
“But it’s wrong. You shouldn’t have to choose between her and me. We’re stronger than this.”
“Then how do we make sure yesterday never happens again?” he asks after a moment of pondering.
“I don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend. But I also don’t want to feel like this again. Maybe we can set some boundaries together—something that helps me feel more secure while making sure you’re not cutting someone important out of your life.”
“Of course. Do you have anything in mind?”
I think about it for a few seconds, refusing to be too strict. The first thing that comes to mind is honestly ridiculous, but I still need to say it. “Don’t sleep with her,” I demand. After a short second of stupor, his low chuckle lights up the room.
“Thank God you clarified this because I wasn’t sure if I could. I’ll call her to cancel our plans for tonight.”
“Don’t joke about it,” I pout, nudging his arm.
“Of course I won’t sleep with her, Andrea. Not only do I not want to, I would never do that to you.”
“Good answer. Okay, seriously, though. You two hanging out late at night makes me uncomfortable. Could you keep it to reasonable hours? Like nothing too late?”
“Done. What else?”
“I don’t want to feel like anything is happening behind closed doors. When you guys meet, do it outside? Like in a bar, a museum, or a public park. But nothing romantic.”
“I might check with you for those because I’m unsure what qualifies as romantic.”
“That’s another thing. I don’t want to feel blindsided again. Just give me a heads-up when you see her, so I don’t find out in a way that makes my brain spiral.”
“Fair enough. I’ll text or call whenever I’m meeting Evora. What else?”
“I haven’t thought this through, but I’ll let you know if I have more rules.”
With a grave and serious expression, he nods before bending toward me. I push myself up the best I can, and we kiss tenderly. This angle is odd, and when it intensifies and his tongue meets mine, it’s like discovering kissing all over again. Wehaveto try the Spider-Man kiss one day.
We get lost in our embrace, and I forget about our issues, about my headache, about Evora… We kiss like nothing else matters in this world—because it’s true. Shifting around to adjust my position, I’m soon plastered against him, my arms wrapped around his neck to hold him close as we devour each other.
I want him. I miss having him, miss feeling him inside of me, miss our perfect harmony… Having sex again would remind him how good we are together, and how he won’t hurt me.
With a bold hand, I grip the front of his basketball shorts, molding my palm over him. He’s soft, completely flaccid. Shit, all this mess really fucked with his head. I insist, pressing harder, pumping him through the fabric until he pulls away from me with a groan. When it still doesn’t work, I slip under the elastic band of his shorts and underwear to circle his dick.
He doesn’t fight me, his forehead pressed on mine, his expression a mix between pain and need. He lets me try for about a minute, and when there’s no sign of him getting hard, he pulls my hand out of there. “I’m sorry, Andrea.”
My eyes become misty, sensing his inner pain and turmoil, but I don’t insist, moving away from his lap. He’s hurt, and I don’t know how to help him heal.
“Have you… have you considered going back to see your therapist?” I wonder.
He shakes his head. “He was an incompetent asshole. I need to find another one, but it’s hard, given my unique needs.”
Right, it must be so hard to find a professional when you’re so much smarter than them. “It’s okay,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder. “We’ll take our time and figure out what to do.”
“How about we put some food in you and watch a movie?” he offers.
“I wouldn’t say no to a cream cheese bagel and scrambled eggs.”
