His lips trailed my neck as he squeezed my breast. I moaned in pleasure, pulling him closer. He dipped his head lower, his tongue trailing the edges of my lace bra. I wrapped my fingers into his hair, welcoming the wet warmth of his mouth before pulling him up to face me again.
His eyes were dark and burning, filled with hunger and desperation. A blaze of fire was set between us, and I wanted to be ruined by it. I wanted to burn until there wasnothing of me left—only ash that would be blown away by the wind.
My eyes told him so, and he accepted the invitation without hesitation. Ready to unravel me the way my body begged him to.
And then—Jake’s voice came through the speaker of the answering machine I’d forgotten he had. We broke apart and stared into nothing as the sweetest man spoke the sweetest words…
“Hey, babe. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be back around noon tomorrow. I tried your cell a bunch of times, but it keeps going to voicemail, so I figured I’d try you here. I sent you a text too, but—really just wanted an excuse to use this thing.” He chuckled. “Cool, right? It’s like we’re back in the nineties! Anyway, it’s late, so you’re probably sleeping already. I got back to the hotel a couple of hours ago, but we grabbed dinner and drinks, so… hitting the hay now. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? Love you, beautiful.”
We were frozen in place, our hands still on each other. He let out a slow, wavering breath, and I realized I hadn’t breathed. I hadn’t even blinked.
“Syd—”
“No.” I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the sorrow in his eyes or feel the regret in mine.
“I’m sorry—” I put my hand over his mouth.
“Don’t. Say. Anything.”
He swallowed, but he did as I asked. I stood up, and he rose beside me. I buttoned my shirt silently, overwhelmed by the shock of the last ten minutes. I grabbed his hoodie off the ground, still sopping wet, and I rolled it into a ball.He held out his hand to take it, and I looked at him, standing there. Shirtless and chiseled, in Jake’s kitchen.
My eyes darted to his bare chest, down to the deep line of his stomach, and back up again, my heart still hammering in my chest. His jaw ticked when my eyes landed on his. “I’m going to get you something to wear.”
“It’s fine—” He reached for his hoodie, and I stepped back instinctively. I’ll never forget the pain in his eyes from my small move backward.
“It’s soaked. I’ll just… put it in the dryer.”
He retracted his hand, tension pulling at the corner of his jaw. “Okay.”
I threw E’s hoodie into the dryer and grabbed a white T-shirt of Jake’s for him to wear in the meantime. I took three deep, controlled breaths, trying hard to ignore the way my skin was still prickling with want, and my gut was swirling with guilt.
When I reentered the kitchen, I placed the shirt on the counter next to him and started to walk away. He took the shirt in one hand and, with the other, he grabbed my wrist and swung me around, forcing my eyes to his. My somewhat calmed heart was back to operating at NASCAR speed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice firm and heavy, his eyes full of aching sincerity. An anxiety-ridden shame bubbled in my belly.
I swallowed, not wanting to admit it, but knowing it couldn’t be denied. I shook my head. “It’s my fault. I kissed you…”
He stared at me for a moment, his gaze so strong I could hear my lungs in my ears. “It’s no one’s fault.” He let mego as he shrugged into Jake’s shirt, and I instantly felt the relief of tension. “It just… happened.”
We fell silent, and I held one elbow with my opposite hand as I stared down at my feet, cautious. Confused. Ashamed.
He looked around aimlessly, running one hand through his hair. “How long until my hoodie’s dry?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. An hour, maybe?”
He looked around again before he clapped his hands together. “Wanna watch Chappelle’s Show reruns?”
I met his eyes, and my heart began to warm at the lightness in his. I let out a breathy, light laugh. “Sure.” He grinned that crooked grin as I walked past him, and I told the fluttering butterflies in my belly to quit it. I held up a finger. “No funny business,” I said accusingly, trying to ignore the taste of him still warm on my tongue. “Just friends,” I claimed, but it was as if I were convincing myself.
“Absolutely.” He smirked as he licked his lips, nodding in agreement. His eyes kept their mischievous glint. “Friends who make out sometimes. Really hot, and then pretend it never happened.” I narrowed my eyes at him, and his brows lifted as he held up his hands in innocence. “Hey, you kissed me, remember?”
I rolled my eyes, and his grin widened. “Too soon?”
I shook my head and made my way to the living room, taking my seat on the couch, far away from E.
An hour later, the rain had stopped. The night sky was a clear, dark, majestic blue. E’s sweatshirt still wasn’t dry, and it was well past midnight. The reruns had ended. We were mindlessly watching some late-night talk show wedidn’t care about, both too engrossed in our own thoughts to speak.
My heart ached in more ways than I cared to admit. I was distressed over my lack of self-control. Embarrassed that my moral compass had weakened so much over time. But then again, was it ever strong when it came to E? He was my exception to every rule. He was my drug, and I would never be clean enough to let him in unscathed.
