“Do you still miss NY?” I groan at the question and the extra pressure he puts onjustthe right spot.
His fingers are so nimble. So competent. So certain. Like he has a right to touch me. I don’t mind it at all. He never crosses the line and since I can’t have sex with him, these massages are the next best thing.
“Thank you,” I groan and let my head loll while I ponder his question. “I miss how walkable the city is. Otherwise, I love being back in the DMV. I’d forgotten how picturesque it is. That we get all four seasons here. I think once I find a house I want to call home I’ll feel better about it.”
“Where do you live now?”
“NoMa.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the newly gentrified corridor of NE south of Union Station. NPR built their new headquarters there in the twenty-tens and it’s gone from a place you’d cross North Capital to avoid to having a Starbucks on the corner and college students walking around at one o’clock in the morning.”
“Shit. There goes the neighborhood,” he quips
We laugh at the same time. I’ve never minded the long-distance friendships I’ve built over the years, but I have to admit it’s really nice to have a friend who knows the heart of where you’re from.
We settle into a comfortable silence.
“Sin,” his voice is low and close.
“Hmm?” I drawl when he doesn’t continue.
“Are we stilljustfriends?” he asks in a somber, quiet voice.
My heart skips a beat and my eyes fly to his.
The humor that was there earlier is gone and in its place is heat anda question.
I bite my lip, and his eyes move to my mouth.
“I really regret not kissing you more that night.” His voice is so husky and inside me something slips loose.
He hooks his hand around the leg of my chair and drags it around until I’m facing away from the counter.
He stands in front of me and cups my face.
It feels so good, I moan. I can’t help it.
I close my eyes.
This isn’t what I came here for. I should leave.
But I don’t want to.
“Do you remember?” His breath brushes my eyes and lean in.
“Every single second,” I admit.
“Why did we decide not to do it again?”
“Bad timing,” I murmur.
His thumb strokes my throat.
“What about now?”
My heart lurches. I wish I’d met him before the thought of trusting him terrified me.
