Eris’s eyebrow raises again. “You thought what, Bambi?” Ze waits, but I just shrug. “You thought I was going to drag you back to the hotel and fuck you within an inch of your life?”
Biting my lip, I shrug again, heat blooming throughout my body. “Kinda.”
Ze smirks, stepping closer to me. “Or did you want me to do it here, where anyone might find us? You want Matt to walk by and see you on your knees? You want Allie to hear you scream my name when you come?”
I squirm, shoulders curling around myself. “Well, notthemspecifically, but…”
Eris laughs, and for a second I panic, wondering if I misread this. If ze doesn’t want me after all, and that kiss on the cheek was a performance for Matt.
But then Eris strokes my cheek again, right where ze kissed me. The spray of rainbow star freckles curves up as ze smiles, both so close and too far from my lips. “Oh Bambi, I love how needy you are. But be a good little toy and have some dinner first. You’ll need your energy.”
My head hits the brick with a hard thump as I melt again, and every thought becomes static. That glimmer of euphoria and desire liquefies me into a puddle as Eris pulls me out of the alley by the wrist.
Eleven
Finally
Beforetoday,Iconsideredmyself a patient person. Someone who played the long game, and explored the options before jumping to a decision. Someone who would wait for the right moment before making my move.
No longer.
Not only did Eris linger over our leisurely dinner of pizza and wine (flirting and teasing me with footsie under the table, while I barely kept my composure), but ze insisted I shower the second we were back, pressing me against the bathroom door and murmuring, “Take some space to think this through. Think about what you want, how far you want this to go, what I can do to make this good for you.”
I’ve never showered quicker in my damn life.
Maybe I should have more whiplash considering two weeks ago, Eris was the most annoying person alive. But I don’t. My eagerness surpasses any reservation. I don’t care what Eris and I do, I just want to do it. There’s a sense of surety with each rushed movement to finish up in the bathroom, an undercurrentoffinally finally finallypounding in my veins that I should find more confusing than I do.
Mere hours ago, we were dancing around each other. While Eris showered, I raced to change before the water turned off. We didn’t acknowledge the shift between us after the car ride. Eris only reconfirmed the limits of affection we agreed on: physical touch and holding hands, flirting, and quick pecks if the situation called for a kiss.
What happened against the wall earlier was within those boundaries, technically. But we never discussed what might happen behind closed doors—I never considered that an option until an hour ago, when the comforting grip of Eris’s hands and no-nonsense honesty brought me back to myself. I’m relieved we didn’t limit ourselves, because now I want everything.
With no answers to zis questions or my own, I slip a tank top and boxers on my still-damp body, unwrapping my curls from the shower cap as I step out with a cloud of steam.
Adorned in a red silk tank top and shorts with zis long hair loose, Eris is waiting on the bed I claimed when we settled in earlier. Ze pats the duvet next to zim. “Come here.”
With a heavy swallow, I lie on my side, hoping I don’t look as ungainly as I feel climbing onto the bed. Unsure what to do—because I’ve only ever done this with Matt before, and all my attempts at a rebound never made it past a kiss—I wait. With Matt, sex was as easy and natural as breathing. With Eris, I’m breathless and trembling.
Eris’s eyes trace my body, lingering on the scars that line and twist along my right leg from the thigh down my shin, almost to my ankles. “What’s up with your knee?”
“That’s not a good foreplay story,” I quip.
Eris grins. “Tell it anyway. I’m curious what got your himbo ex so worked up about it that he still feels entitled to tell you what shoes to wear.”
I groan, impatient. “It was the summer after eighth grade. We weren’t supposed to bike on the highway, but he wanted to go swimming. A delivery driver got distracted, lost control, and pinned me by my leg against a tree. I’m lucky to be alive and still have a leg, but the dairy company the guy worked for paid out enough money to put me through law school.”
“Is that why you don’t eat dairy?” Eris teases. Zis calloused fingers trace the scars on my knee, numb except where some nerves have regrown.
“No, I’m just lactose intolerant,” I snort. “Anyway, I started high school in a wheelchair, and I used crutches or canes until senior year. If it weren’t for Matt, I probably would have been bullied to hell for being a nerd, goth, stoner, cripple, the list goes on. But he was super popular, so being his girlfriend protected me from the worst of it. Which is why he’s a fucking mother hen now. He blames himself for the accident, so he basically appointed himself as my protector and physical therapist.”
“I’m sorry, you weregoth?” Eris grins in delight.
“That’s what you got out of that?” I laugh. “No, I just wore a lot of black. That’s basically goth in Solberg. I wouldn’t call myself a cripple either, but everyone in school did.” I sigh, wondering how we ended up discussing my complicated relationship with being disabled instead of fucking. But Eris wants to hear feelings, so… “The hardest part was losing my independence. I was always such a tomboy—in hindsight, maybe a sign I wasn’t cis—and my dad is disabled, with cerebral palsy. So growing up, I always got to do the ‘boy’ things like mow the lawn and fix the chicken coop, all the stuff that he had trouble doing. He always supervised.”
I laugh softly because my dad wasn’t a good supervisor either. He always got distracted by the bird feeders. “And after the accident,Mattdid all of those things. And I had to watch him be my dad’s son, while my mom pushed me into being herdaughter. Which she’d been doing since I started middle school anyways, telling me it was time to grow up and stop running around without a bra.” I chuckle, a little sardonic. “Except it was worse, because Mom treated me like I was helpless and fragile, all while pushing me to be more feminine. I don’t think she meant to infantilize me, because she doesn’t with my dad, but she did. So did my dad, and the rest of Solberg, even Matt in some ways. I think I’m more bitter about that than being unable to walk for the first year of high school.”
Eris nods, humming in acknowledgment. Thankfully, ze doesn’t ask anything else, though I do wonder what lies behind zis thoughtful expression. Kneeling on the bed, ze picks up my leg, bending and flexing it with zis hands. My pale skin dips under zis fingers, and a quiet buzz of pain radiates up my thigh. “Does this hurt?”
“Little bit,” I admit. “I do stretches and strength training, but I’ve fallen out of the habit with school. I only do them when the pain is bad.”
