“Uh… nice tattoo.”
He smiles and looks down. “Oh… that, yeah. Thanks,” he says, suddenly realizing that he’s half naked in bed. I wonder if he’s fully naked. Yeah, my mind goes there. Totally does. I shake my head.
“So what’s going on, Gabriella?” I love how he says my name.
“I…” I’m suddenly very self-conscious. It seems so self-indulgent and self-centered to wake someone up in the middle of the night to bitch about your problems. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have woken you.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s just,” I start. “John and I had a fight,” I say. I feel guilty because for all the conversations Eli and I have shared, I’ve never once bitched about my husband, or spoken of him in a negative way. But tonight, I really want to rant.
Eli nods patiently, curious.
“It was about how he’s always gone, and I have to do everything around here.”
He nods. “Yeah, I got that sense.”
“I mean, that’s life, but I’ve had enough lately.”
He stares at me for a beat. “Do you miss him when he’s gone?” he asks softly. “Are you lonely?”
I nod. “Yes,” I confess. “It’s probably the reason I’m talking to you right now.”
He grins, a playful smile, sexy as hell. “So you’re using me?”
“Definitely,” I tease.
His grin widens. “Use me all you want.”
My smile fades. “Why are you talking to me? Are you lonely too?”
He nods. “Yes,” he says quietly, and in that moment, he’s so damn beautiful. I can’t believe someone like him could ever be lonely.
“I wish you were closer,” he says. “It would be nice to have coffee together.”
I close my eyes. “Yes.”
“Two senses,” he says. “That’s all I get with you.”
I’m not quite sure what he’s getting at. “What do you mean?”
“I get to see you, and I get to hear your voice,” he says, “but I don’t get to smell you, touch you... taste you.”
Holy fuck.
A heat spreads through my core and I feel dizzy, dizzy with desire. He’s turning me on. I can’t believe he just uttered those words. He’s never crossed the line before.
Fuck,never.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’re married… I just,” he stammers. “I just like you,” he goes on, completely flustered. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him.
A long silence fills the screen with tension. After a long beat, I say, so quietly I can barely hear myself, “I feel the same way. I wish I could touch you... taste you.”
He closes his eyes, and I shut mine too. This feels so heavy, so amazing. I want to hold on to this feeling forever.
But we’ve both just crossed the line, and I swore to myself that I’d never do that to John.
