Page 68 of All Our Almosts

I traced a freckle on her side, noting its exact location, right where her hip began to bloom. The space between our bodies was a whisper, faint and fading, but still there. My fingers pressed deeper into her soft flesh, and the only thought in my head was: This is Sophie.

With everything else in life, I’d learned how to rein myself in. No laundry unfolded, no run skipped, no comma misplaced, no temptation insurmountable—except her. She was a temptation made just for me. She was safe and she was terrifying. She was all of my wildest impulses. And most days I thought I knew her better than I knew myself—except in this. Her body. Where she liked to be touched. How soft, how slow, how she would respond to me, the sounds she would make, the way she would move. In this, I didn’t know her at all. Yet.

Damned if I didn’t want to learn every last thing.

This was the thought that had my hands starting to trail over all the parts of her I’d never touched before. Her stomach, her spine, her hipbones. I skimmed over the top edge of her underwear, reminding myself to take it slow—not yet. Every move felt reverent. She was the sweetest wine and I was drunk on the closeness of her.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Soph,” I admitted, placing a kiss against the side of her neck, tender and testing, all instinct, no plan. “Is this okay?”

“Andy, I…” My knuckles brushed beneath her breast and her speech stammered. “Y—yes.”

Thank God.

Her head dropped back against my shoulder as I tasted the place where her pulse beat.

“But I…”

She trailed off and I froze, needing to hear the end of that sentence more than I needed air. Did I mess up again? She had been drinking. So had I. Was this crazy? Was she in a position to consent? She only had a few, but without food…

Her breathy voice continued, “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do. I just want to be sure you want this too. I know I’m the one who called you in my room tonight and—”

Maybe the alcohol was making me bold. Or maybe enough was just enough. If she was still doubting that I wanted her—if that was the thing getting in our way—it ended now.

I cut her off with a tug of her body to mine. She gasped—the evidence of my desire obvious between us.

“I want this, Soph,” I murmured into her ear. “I know you can feel how much I want this.”

Before she could reply, my hands moved to cup her breasts. Her soft, full, perfect breasts. Time slowed as I touched her, as I felt her pebble under the attention. A moan slipped from her lips and I couldn’t believe what was happening—touching her, watching her react to my touch. Logic and consequences were long gone as I let my hand wander farther down the front of her body.

“If I touch you here...” My fingertips teased the lace at the front of her underwear. “Will I find out that you want this too?”

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” she breathed, placing her hand over mine and guiding it lower.

Slowly, my fingers pushed beneath her waistband. I leaned over her shoulder, both of us watching my hand disappear under the pink silk.

“Fuck, Soph.” She felt like heaven, so wet, so ready. “I need to—”

Like a shockwave, an alarm blared through the apartment.

We screamed “Jesus Christ!” and “What the fuck!” and Sophie cried, “Is that your building’s fire alarm?”

I raced out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, Sophie’s highly coveted scallion pancake was not only burned but fully on fire on the stove. My cries of “Shit! Shit! Shit!” mixed with Sophie’s shriek of “Where is the fire extinguisher? Please tell me you have a fire extinguisher!”

I did not, but I had a backup plan. I threw on oven mitts, grabbed the pan handle, and thrust the entire thing into the sink, covering it with a dish towel to smother the flame before turning the water on. A huge plume of steam rose up around it, which seemed to further anger the fire alarm which sounded even louder now. How was that possible?

“Come on Andy, we’re supposed to leave the building! It’s literally a fire drill! Or like, a real fire! I don’t know what it is but hurry up!”

“We just put out the fire—it’s fine!”

“Andy, if I don’t get out of this building and away from this sound right now I’m going to lose my mind!”

“Sophie, you’re still naked!”

She looked down at herself—chest fully out in the middle of the kitchen—then back up at me with panic.

“Come on, get some clothes and let’s go,” I insisted, halting her mid-spiral. There’d be time to lose it later when she was dressed and everything was much quieter.

She ran back into her room, threw on her robe, then took my outstretched hand as we raced away from the most horrendous noise we’d ever had the displeasure of hearing.