Because nobody is.
Not in that way.
???
By the second half of the year, Olsen's persistent flirtation has deepened.
And so has my resolve to remain faithful to Porter.
At least when it comes to reciprocating.
Something inside me yearns for validation.
For the arousal.
For the way it makes my body and soul come to life again.
I miss the feeling of being wanted.
But I won’t let myself cave.
Not worth it,I decide.
Keep things platonic.
Sadly, platonic describes things at home and work.
Porter and I have drifted more than ever.
But here with Olsen?
Platonic is easier said than done.
We spend a lot of time in the library.
It seems more productive to study here than in my bedroom.
Far more peaceful without the clatter of pots and pans beneath the floorboards.
The library is a place for soft voices.
For leaning close.
For learning new things.
“You make it so fucking hard…” he whispers.
“Make what hard?”
I answer my own question as soon as the words roll off my tongue.
“Hard to behave. When you look at me like that, with your shirt half undone.”
“Olsen…”
I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss him.
And it’s not the first time I’ve thought about it.
