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The girls are jumping on his legs now, but he doesn’t move. Why isn’t he saying anything?
There’s an orange package at his feet. A feeling, warm and lovely, curls inside my stomach when I realize it’s a two-packof shaving cream cans he must’ve dropped, explaining the bang.
It’s the expensive, name-brand shaving cream I never allow myself to buy.
Abel bought me shaving cream.
He remembered.
And then he brought it up to his bathroom. My bathroom. The one in which I’m currently naked. In which Abel currently stands, staring at me like he might either eat me or throw me out.
I have to tell him how I feel. Now.
Small tremors work their way up my legs and torso as I grip the sides of the tub. “Abel.”
The sound of my voice must break the spell, because suddenly he’s bending down. He’s picking up the shaving cream and slamming it on the nearby countertop, making me jump.
“Why the fuck didn’t you close your door, Jen?” He spears a hand through his hair and spins around. “Christ.”
The anger in his tone makes my stomach twist. He stalks out of the room, taking all the air with him.
I can’t breathe. All I know is I can’t let tonight end like this. I can’t give up on this chance to make something happen. I can’t keep lying to him about what I want.
I can’t keep lying to myself.
This step, however small or momentous it might end up being, feels important. An opening in an otherwise closed-off world ofbe quietandbe goodandbe small. It’s an opportunity to not only stop being a people pleaser, but to stop being what everyone else expects me to be too. Because nothing about my feelings, my need, is quiet or small.
Before I can second guess myself, I pull the plug in the bathtub and climb out. Wrapping a robe around myself, I go after Abel.
I hear him downstairs. More thumps and bangs, like he’s throwing pots around.
My resolve wavers. He ispissed. Should I even?—
Yes.Yes, I should.
I walk down the stairs and see him standing at the bar. He’s filling a double shot glass with Añejo tequila.
He shoots the tequila, swallowing it in a single gulp. I feel the quick, hard glide of his Adam’s apple between my legs. He slams the shot glass on the countertop. I’m shocked it doesn’t shatter.
I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter. Clenching them, I take a deep breath and step closer. “Abel. I want—can we—please, let’s talk about this.”
He cuts me a glance from the corner of his eye. “Let’s not.”
“I want you,” I blurt, my words tripping over each other. “I’m attracted to you. The kiss...”
“Was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t.” I’m surprised by the force of my voice. “It was the best kiss I’ve had in... a while. I think about it all the time.”
He chuckles darkly. “You don’t get it. It was for show, Jen.”
“What about the tongue? Was that for show too?”
“Jesus Christ.” He pours himself another tequila. “Of course it was.”
“You’re lying. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel it too.” I glance at the tent in his jeans. “Why can’t we explore this?”
“Because.” He lifts the shot glass. “You don’tget it, Jen. You don’t understand...”
