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Like always, Antonio wasn’t offended by the way I turned him down. “Absolutely.” He took a step closer to me, closing the gap in between us until we were dangerously close.
I stopped breathing for a second, my heart pounding at the proximity.
His eyes shifted down to look at me since he was so much taller than me. He had a kind face, but he also had a sexy smolder without trying. He stood perfectly straight like a confident man, understanding the exact effect he had on me.
He said he wouldn’t kiss me unless I asked, so I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. I could tell he was a man who kept his word, and it didn’t seem like something he would do so soon anyway.
“I think a handshake would be strange. So, how about a hug?” He kept his hands in his pockets, not touching me with his fingers but touching me with his proximity. His soft eyes looked into mine, commanding my full attention. His piercing gaze burned me from the inside out, made me feel alive.
I stared at him.
He waited for a yes, and if he didn’t get it, he wouldn’t touch me.
I didn’t see anything wrong with a hug. Friends shared more affection than that on a daily basis. “Sure.”
The corner of his mouth rose in a smile before he moved in. His arms circled my waist, his large palms gliding across my back. He pulled me into him, making my tits hit his strong chest. Instead of moving his face into my neck, he rested his forehead right against mine.
My arms circled around his neck, and I froze as I sucked in a deep breath. I hadn’t expected the intimate closeness, the feel of his breath on my face. I expected a quick hug, something that wouldn’t last longer than five seconds.
But it seemed to go on forever.
He held me outside my apartment, his large hands taking up most of my back. His cologne was heavy, along with a hint of paint. With his fingertip touched the bare skin between my shoulder blades, I couldn’t contain the air in my lungs. I took a deep breath, moved by the touch.
He kept his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. He never moved in to kiss me, keeping his distance like he promised.
All I had to do was move out of the way, and he would let me go. But I stayed there. I stayed absolutely still, like any movement would bring him closer or push him farther away. My hands moved down his arms, feeling the solid muscle I’d stared at in the past. I rested my palms on the crook of his elbows, feeling the prominent veins underneath his skin.
A quiet moan escaped his throat, just as his chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Fuck…”
I imagined him saying that very word in bed, when he was hot and sweaty on top of me, enjoying me. I loved being touched by someone, getting affection I hadn’t had in so long. The last few days with Bones were full of tears and heartbreak, not real connection. The sex wasn’t what it used to be, not when all we could think about was saying goodbye. I didn’t realize how much I wanted it until now, from a man that wasn’t Bones.
“I could do this forever.”
I could do this forever too, and that’s what scared me. I liked everything about Antonio, from his personality to his confidence. I liked the way he carried himself, the way he created art. I liked the connection we had, as if we’d known each other before we even met. But those feelings alarmed me, made me feel so much guilt that I despised myself. It’s been months since Bones left and he’d been with other women by now, but that didn’t change the way I felt. I stepped back, putting an end to the tenderness before I could enjoy it a second longer. “I should get going…” I turned my back on him before he even had the opportunity to say anything.
His footsteps sounded as he followed me to the stairs. “Vanessa.”
I stepped on the first stair and gripped the rail.
He spoke again, a little more authoritatively. “Vanessa.” He didn’t reach out and grab me, but his voice was enough.
I turned around, eye level with him.
“How long has it been?” He moved his hands into his pockets again, telling me he wouldn’t try to touch me.
I knew he was asking about the man I loved. “Two months.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Not long enough,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I told you I wasn’t ready—”
He held up his hand to silence me. “You don’t owe me an apology or an explanation. I’m only asking.”
I gripped the rails on either side of me.
He returned his hand to his pocket. “Can I ask what happened?”
