Hair. Messy.
Me? Still me. Nothing I could do to change that. Anyway, he’d apologise for that massive error of judgement and tell me something stupid, and then he would leave me. Again.
The breath I took was deep and dizzying. But I took it. Stepped back into the hallway and made it to the bed. Put the phone on charge. Tablet on charge. Alarm on.
Like this was normal. Like I hadn’t clocked him in the dull light, lying there under the covers.
“I’m sleeping here. Can’t be bothered to go home. I was out there for three hours, hoping you’d actually stop working and come home.”
“You could have texted me.” I sounded sad. It was a sad state of affairs that I did.
“I did. A few times. I knew you’d be busy. I don’t mind.”
“I’m here now.”
How easily I slipped into this. Being everything he needed. We hadn’t talked about it, over text. Just skirted over the obvious and gone straight back to normal. Memes. Jokes. Him telling me things. Me stating the obvious in a spluttering of emojis.
“I’m not going to apologise,” he whispered. “Because I’m not sorry. Not for what I did.”
“You just left,” I whispered. “Shitty on a grand scale.”
“I needed to process. You know what I’m like.”
“No excuse.” I was angry. I was also begging. I wasn’t proud of that.
“I just wanted to…see.”
“Your eyesight is just fine.”
“So salty.” He smiled, and then he moved closer. Dragged my body by the shoulder until I was flat up against him. My head on his biceps. His arm around my back. A hand gently resting on my hip.
His fingers against my bare skin. Under my T-shirt.
“Georgie,” he said. And another finger brushed over bone, higher up my arm. Cheek. My temple. Stroking a stray hair out of the way. “Is this okay?”
“What part?” Yes. I was still…salty. A little confused. This? This was new. A bit much. Too close.
“Me, touching…you.”
“You touch me, all the time.”
“Notlike this, I don’t.”
I had to smile. Bloody hell. His fingers traced back down my hip. And yes. Did I like it? I liked it.
“You’re the only one…I want to do this with.” His whispered words were like pinpricks on my skin. They should have sounded romantic but instead filled me with anxiety.
“Bullshit,” came out of my mouth.
“Georgie,” he said, and now his fingers were back around my chin. His eyes back on mine. “Last time?”
“Yes.” Weak. So weak. Why did I let him manipulate me like this?
Because I loved him. So stupid. So…weird.
“Can I?” he asked. I had no idea what he was asking. But his lips were back on mine, and it was…
Terrifying. Wondrously so as he kissed me. With care and tenderness. Again with too much tongue. My mouth just hanging slack as he ate me up. Every little part of my upper lip inside his mouth. Sucking at me and then his tongue was back, licking my bottom lip and meeting my pathetic attempts to match his skill.
