“You’re what?”
“I’m looking at your hands,” I admit with a little sigh. Can I admit out loud that I’m horny? That would sound ridiculous.
Those dark brows shoot up practically to his hairline. “Why?”
My cheeks are hot. I squirm in my seat again. “I’m…remembering what they did to me earlier.”
The frown is gone, replaced with a wicked smile that sends my body temperature skyrocketing. He leans across the table, his voice so low it vibrates through me and settles betweenmy legs. “Maybe we should go back to my place so I can do that to you all over again.”
Oh my God, that sounds like the best idea ever. “Maybe we should.”
The smile never leaves his face. In fact, it grows bigger. My quiet, hesitant Drew has morphed into some sort of cocky sex god. “You don’t want to order anything?”
I slowly shake my head. “Can’t we just get pizza again? Later?” We had it last night, too. “From somewhere different this time. You know, just to mix it up. Or maybe Chinese? I love Chinese.”
He laughs, the sound husky. “You said you wanted to get out of the house for a while because you worried we were becoming addicted to each other.”
“Is that what I said?” I honestly can’t remember. What’s wrong with being addicted to each other? Aren’t we still in this pretend mode where we’re normal people who like to have sex without hangups or issues? I wonder if Drew has ever had sex like this. Carefree and so…normal.
“Yep.” He nods.
“Maybe I like being addicted to you,” I admit softly. We haven’t said we loved each other yet. I can’t work up the nerve. Maybe he can’t either. Silly, considering how consumed with love I am for him. He is just…amazing. Sweet. Attentive. Funny. Smart. Sexy.
I understand him. He understands me. We’re perfect for each other.
Maybe we’retooperfect together. Too perfect doesn’t really exist. This could all be a façade. Just like our week together over the Thanksgiving break.
That weekfeltfake, though. Surreal. There were real, grounding moments, but for the most part, we were caught up in an act. Maybe we’re pretending right now, too, but I’m trying to be as real as I can with him. Without the baggage and the heartache and the trouble hanging over us. For at least a little while.
It’ll all come crashing down upon us soon. That’s a reality I don’t want to face quite yet.
He reaches across the table for my hands and takes them in his. “I really like being addicted toyou.”
The smile I send his way is so big it hurts my cheeks. We are so in this addiction together.
For once, I know I’m not alone.
“Let’s go home and play true confessions,” I suggest because I’m feeling silly. “Nothing heavy, though. We can keep it light and easy.”
“True confessions? I’m intrigued.”
“You should be,” I say coyly. “It’s going to be a sexual true confessions.”
He stiffens the slightest bit and I squeeze his hands in my grip. We need to be open with each other and while the sexual connection we have is amazing, I know sometimes he holds himself back. I understand why. Sort of.
That’s where we’re complete opposites. I was the type who gave it away just so I could feel something, anything, for a little while. He’d rather box himself up and feel absolutely nothing.
“Fable…” His voice trails off and his smile fades. “I don’t know if I’m up to that yet.”
“It won’t be anything crazy, I promise.” I lean over ourlinked hands and bring them to my mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “No pressure. Just fun.”
“Just fun?” He brushes his thumb over the top of my hand and my entire body reacts.
“Always fun,” I whisper.
Drew
I’m curious where Fable thinks she’s taking this true confessions game she mentioned. Curious enough to agree to leave the restaurant without ordering, earning a strange look from the waitress when we do.
