“Yet, I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. I feel like this, meeting you?”
“You said it yourself. It’s a rebound hook-up. We should just leave it at that. You go back to your holiday, I get to read my book. This was great. The sex was…”
“Noah, the sex was… It was exactly what I needed. Don’t make it into something else.”
“See? It was just…sex. Can we agree on that?”
I was desperate for him to say no. To just crawl back into my arms and make this whole conversation go away. Because I knew as soon as he said it? I would break. Just on the inside. Hurt for a while whilst I tried to forget.
Instead, he moved slowly. Adjusted his stance on the bed until we were perfectly positioned.
“How often do you meet someone who just does it for you?” he asked quietly.
“Never.” My response was just as honest. What else could I say?
“But here we are.”
“Yes.” Had I agreed to his madness? The subtle promises in his words?
“Then please let me stay.”
“Have you eaten?” Safe questioning.
“No. How could I? You fucked off? Was I just supposed to sit down and dine with your parents and ignore the small fact that you were nowhere to be found?”
Okay. He had a point.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Because I was. I was an idiot. And despite being a day off forty? I was still a stupid child.
“Apology accepted. Don’t ever run away from me again. If things get weird, if you feel you need space? If there are too many expectations—I don’t know what it is that triggers that instinct in you, but please let me find out so I can be there. I want to. I want to know everything about you, and I want to stay here in your bed, because when I’m here?”
I kissed him. I had no idea how else to put an end to the words spilling out of his mouth. It was all too much. Too many promises he could never make good on. And despite the things he threw at me?
It would never actually become anything, this fairytale he was somehow building in my head. Because life didn’t work that way.
“Did you order something to eat?” he whispered into my mouth. “And no, sex does not count as nutrition, Doctor Fairweather. You’re going to have to feed me now.”
“How do you feel about red wine?” I kissed the words into his lips.
“Should I drink on those pills you gave me?”
“Probably not.”
Drunk. A few kisses and his pretty words? Intoxicated. I shouldn’t go near any red wine. But I still licked down his jaw. Pressed a kiss into his neck. My cock wanted things, things that once again scared me. I’d pulled it off once, well twice now. A third time was pushing my luck. And now? My body felt like a full-on war zone of conflict, and he was just smiling.
“If I order steak? A bottle of Shiraz? Will you eat with me?” The easy way out, maybe. Or was I just about to prolong the inevitable with…food?
“Sounds like a date. Are we eating in bed?”
“I mean…” I cleared my throat. “There’s always the beach, but the thought of sand up my crack and sand in my wine…”
“Noah, we’re eating in bed. Deal done. Now make that phone call and order me dinner. I need veg on the side, can we do that?”
“Chips?”
“Not much of a carbs person, but bring it on.”
“Fox.”
