Page 60 of Two’s Better

But I forced myself to. I got rid of the condom, picking up the one from the floor as well and dumping them in the trash. Damn, my legs felt like jelly.

I got out my pack of wet wipes. She shivered at the cold, and I murmured soothingly as I wiped her as clean as she could get, the sight and feel of her soft, swollen pussy threatening to make me randy again. I gave myself a cursory wipe as well, then slid back into the bed, pulling her into my arms.

She came easily, heavy, sleepy eyes meeting mine, and I was whispering before I could stop myself, “I love you.”

Everything inside me tumbled wildly, because once the words left my lips, I knew they didn’t sound the same.

Like she could hear whatever it was I’d just inadvertently revealed, her breathing hitched, her soft, brown eyes growing wide and shiny.

She swallowed visibly before she whispered, “I love you, too,” the words sounding just as different from her, too.

She pushed forward to hide her face in my chest, and I held her tight, wishing, wanting, aching.

18

I didn’t realise we’d fallen asleep, only jolting awake when Ofure shifted in my arms.

“Sorry,” she whispered, voice thick. She sat up with a sleepy, almost confused looking frown, completely unselfconscious about her nakedness. There was a crease mark on her cheek from where she’d been resting on my pillows.

And that ache in my heart was back. I watched her blink again, slowly regaining consciousness, before she searched around the sheets for her phone. She seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking directly at me.

“What time is it?” I asked, sitting up as well, clearing my throat when my voice came out too rough.

“Just past nine,” she replied. And yup, she was definitely avoiding my gaze.

The ache in my heart twisted into something agonising. I ignored it.

“I should probably go.”

“Right.”

If she was my girlfriend, she wouldn’t have to leave. If she was my girlfriend, our friends wouldn’t look at us with raised eyebrows if I escorted her back to hers right now to get her toiletries and an overnight bag, just so she could comfortably spend the night, stay in my room—in my bed with me, maybe make love again just before the sun rose.

If she was my girlfriend—

But she wasn’t my girlfriend. And, at least right now, I had to let her go.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She left the bed and began to fish for her clothes. I did the same.

Once we were dressed, she didn’t protest as I silently followed her out of my room. She reached down to put on her shoes before I could help her, and I ignored the vicious throbbing in my chest as I put my own shoes on as well.

She remained silent as we made the short walk to hers, the few inches of space between us like a chasm, growing wider and deeper with every step we took.

I couldn’t let us part like this.

“Fure,” I whispered when we were on the pavement in front of her house. I reached out to gently clasp her wrist. She didn’t pull away from me, thank God. But she still didn’t meet my eyes, either. “Are you freaking out?” I said it teasingly, wanting to somehow bridge the impossible gap stretching between us.

“No,” she said calmly, clearly freaking out.

Oh God, I was so fucking in love with her. I tugged, and she came stumbling into my arms. I couldn’t resist hugging her tight, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. She trembled. After a moment, her arms came around me, too. I exhaled a low, ragged breath of relief.

“Just ...” I had to swallow when my voice threatened to crack. “Just don’t freak out for too long, yeah?”

There was a brief pause. I hadn’t realised how tensely she’d been holding herself until her body suddenly relaxed in my arms.

“Right back at you,” she whispered.