My breath deepens.
Desire blooms between my thighs.
Then Olsen curves an arm around me.
Friends do that, right?
I make a power point presentation in my head, titled:
Reasons I'm Definitely Not Attracted to The Hot Guy From My Class.
And when that doesn’t work, I try to think about the least sexy man in Brisbane.
Franko.
Beer gut. Yellow teeth. Chain smoker.
Probably got a swamp butt.
Yep, it’s working.
I rest a cushion on my lap until the erection fades.
Reaching for my phone, I send a message to Porter.
Will be home soon x
No reply.
???
Three hours later, he leaves me on read.
The dinner shift will be clocking on in less than ninety minutes.
I’ll need to get going soon.
“Stay…” Olsen pleads, when I stand to leave.
The warmth of his hand pulling me back to the couch?
It sends a wave of elation through me.
Damn, it feels so good to be wanted.
Unashamedly.
In public.
Let go,I tell myself.You have a boyfriend.
But deep down, I have to admit that it isn’t really true.
Porter has never once said the word boyfriend in my presence.
Or any four letter word starting with L.
Not even two summers ago, when we house-sat in Noosa.
