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He pulls away from me but his eyes never leave my face – shifting from fear to need so quickly the sight makes me gasp in surprise. His gaze immediately drops to my mouth then bounces back to my eyes. I don’t know who moves first, him or me. All I know is that we are millimeters apart one moment, my eyes already closed in anticipation, when I feel his body completely move away. The heat of him leaving me instantly puts a chill on my skin.
Disappointment races through me and I’m shocked for all of a second before I accept the fact that it really isn’t surprising at all. A part of me has always known I have a thing for Oliver – more than a thing. I love him. I’m not sure when it happened exactly, I just know I’ve felt more than friendship for him for a while. Watching him date girl after girl in school the jealousy I always feel is a pretty strong indicator of my feelings. I spent more time than I care to admit looking at myself in the mirror wondering what was wrong with me – why he didn’t ever turn his attentions to me. Why he never noticed me as more than a friend.
But this… this… almost kiss… or whatever it was… this means that maybe attraction isn’t the problem after all.
“Why?” I don’t have to say anything else. He knows exactly what I’m asking.
Moving back to my side, he lies down once again, but the distance he keeps between us this time, both physically and mentally is clear. “We can’t. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t… it wasn’t… I’m sorry.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want it to seem like I’m begging – but I also don’t understand. Maybe he sees those thoughts on my face. If so, I clearly need to learn to hide my emotions better. He clears his throat and looks away when I only continue to stare.
Finally I manage to say something. “What was your dream about?” My voice cracks on the words.
He doesn’t look at me and is so still I wonder if he heard me, or maybe he’s just refusing to answer. He turns to face me but now, with his back to the light in the room, I can’t make out his features. His face is cast in shadow.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me, Remy. Promise me that we will always be in each other’s lives.”
While speaking, his hand reaches for mine and takes it into his own. I don’t think he realizes how hard he’s holding it. “I promise. What’s this about?”
“Nothing,” he attempts a smile, but he fails. “Are you okay if I head on home? Your mom came in a little bit ago. She checked on you and saw me here.”
“I’m guessing she wasn’t mad since I didn’t wake up to yelling.”
“She’s not mad at all, she’s known for a while I come in here sometimes. So do my parents.”
“What? They do?”
He shrugs, “Sure. They know we’re just friends and they trust us.”
I sag a little at his words, but nod, “Well that’s good.” Then something occurs to me, “But wait, why do you come in through my bedroom window still?”
He shrugs and I’m sure if I could see his eyes better there would be amusement there, “You seem to like it.”
“Lies. Just admit that it’s because you must like it.”
He does no such thing, only laughs softly. “Okay, I’m going to go then.”
“Yeah, okay,” I nod in agreement even though I’m feeling completely confused.
“Get back to sleep,” he kisses me on my forehead and goes to the window sliding it up. Once again he chooses the window instead of the front door. Because of me? Yeah, I don’t think so.
Turning, I put my back to him, not wanting to see him leave. I can feel his presence, know he’s standing there, his gaze burning into my back. The air is always palpable and heavy with his presence. Sometimes I swear I can tell the exact moment he turns the corner in school and is down the hallway from me, or the moment he enters a classroom we share. “It’s because if we go there… if it didn’t work out… I can’t lose you. Not ever.”
His words make me hold my breath and it takes me a minute before I can respond, “I don’t want to lose you either.” When there’s no reply I know without looking that he already left. I could feel it.
He never slept over again after that – I never asked him to and he never offered or asked to either. And instead of continuing to stay close we slowly drifted apart – always remaining in each other’s lives and getting together when we could – but the distance was always there after that. A torn thread we couldn’t seem to ever figure out how to mend.
Until now. I’m thankful to have the chance to be close to him again, to spend time with him and enjoy his attention and company. Truth is, I’ve missed him. Even when I’ve been with him, I’ve missed him.
As if hearing my thoughts his arm tightens around me for a moment before it relaxes again. I don’t move and when his breathing deepens once more, I slide out from under his arm, grab some things from my suitcase and go into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.
Twenty minutes later I’ve got a swimsuit on, a cover up over it, my hair in a high bun and I’m ready to spend some time in the sun today. When I walk back into the room, it’s to find Oliver awake and sitting against the headboard.
“Mornin’,” he smiles lazily.
I swallow heavily. He looks really good in the morning. Hair sleep tousled, a lot of skin showing from only wearing pajama bottoms - it takes effort not to let my eyes move below his chin.
“Good morning,” I swear that came out a little high-pitched. Clearing my throat I ask, “How did you sleep?”
