‘Don’t,’ he said, cutting me off before I’d even got the words out. ‘Don’t be sorry. Kissing you is… like a bucket-list item or something.’
I bit my lip, assailed by warmth at his words, even though my thoughts were still tied in knots at the idea that what happened in September hadn’t been a prank at all. ‘You can tick me off now?’
‘No!’ He nudged me with his shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact so muchmorethan our usual playful touches. ‘I just meant I won’t regret anything. No matter what happens, I’d rather have touched you than not.’
‘No matter what happens,’ I repeated, my voice weak. ‘That’s where I get stuck.’
‘I get it.’
I could almost believe he did get it – getme. That was a stupid notion. In which universe did it make sense that Colin Gallagher understood the wild landscape of my brain?
‘Does it help to talk about it?’
‘No!’ I answered immediately, which seemed to amuse him. ‘I think, once we get talking… that’s it. I can’t switch it off any more.’
‘Why do you have to switch off? I don’t really like the idea of you lying back and thinking of other things.’
‘You’d want my head consumed withyouwhile we have sex?’
He was smiling again, which boggled my mind. Bracing his elbows on his knees, still almost completely naked, his posture was so easy, as though all we were doing was watching a movie together.
‘I wouldn’t want you thinking about anyone else,’ he said.
‘So cocky,’ I scoffed, which only made him smile wider. ‘I know it’s my problem, but I’ve always needed to sink into some kind of fantasy to…’
‘To get off?’ He peered at me, his gaze full of curiosity and blessedly free of judgement.
‘It’s weird, and I always hate the first time and so I’ve never bothered with one-time partners.’
He didn’t say anything for a long time, but I couldn’t look at him. When he finally spoke, the roughness in his voice surprised me. ‘That’s actually kind of hot, Kubicka. Fuck, I would love to know what fantasies run through your brain.’
My hair stood on end, unable to shy away from his honesty. My mouth was dry and I was dismayed to feel the flare of desire over my skin once more. That was not supposed to happen.
‘I bet you don’t tell anyone though, right?’
‘Right,’ I rushed to agree before he got any ideas.
‘It’s not weird,’ he said gently. ‘Or if it is, it doesn’t matter. I like it. It’s you.’
I like you. I want you.I would love to know what fantasies run through your brain.
I chewed on a nail, trying to stop those words wrapping around me and changing me. Maybe it was the fact that we weren’t discussing a committed relationship that made this conversation bearable. There was no pressure to interrogate our feelings, align our goals, make spurious promises.
After the Tour, Colin would continue his gruelling training and racing schedule and I would pursue my lacklustre career. There was no right or wrong in this moment, no life-changing decisions.
It was just Colin, who could sit comfortably next to me with his dick out without a worry, who was apparently so keen on my body that he didn’t mind the complex puzzle of my brain.I want you.
‘You really didn’t mean it when you told your dad you prefer big boobs?’
He grinned at me. ‘I said it because the opposite is true.’
‘You like small ones?’
‘I likeyours. That lace thing you’re wearing, I want toripit.’
The way those words flared through me. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose, painting a picture for me, but it stoked that fantasy cortex of my brain as I imagined him doing it, the backs of his fingers on my skin.
‘In real life, I’d probably need scissors,’ he commented with a dry smile.
