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I’m in my room, trying to read.
Or maybe trying is stretching it a little.
I’m sitting up in bed, a photography memoir open in my hands, the library book’s pages worn and folded over in places.
But I’m not trying, not really, rather just staring at it and waiting for something to happen.
It’s been three hours since I left the warehouse, just over that since the kiss.
As pathetic as it is, I wince every time I take a sip of water, as though it’s going to push his taste away.
Whenever I adjust my position, I feel my panties, the same ones I wore earlier. I can feel the stickiness there. I should change them, but I want to remember what it felt like.
Being so wanted. By him.
“All right.”
With a huff, I climb to my feet, leaving the book on the bed.
This is getting ridiculous.
I go to my drawers, grab some fresh underwear, and then take a clean towel from the closet. Lastly, I grab my PJs, figuring I’ll change into them after the shower.
The thought of getting clean and wiping the day away…it doesn’t exactly leave me thrilled.
Surely that’s a bad sign.
I’d rather be sweaty and feel a little cruddy than wash away the scent, the feel, the memory of Felix.
I shiver when I think about him sliding his hands down to my ass, remembering the way he grabbed me like he never wanted to let go.
Like he really was starving for me, as achingly as I am for him.
It’s like he had a crush on me equal to mine.
I know that can’t be the case. His crush can never be the same as mine since it started when I was younger. But right then, at that moment, I was sure I felt the same passion, returned in the urgency of his kiss.
Walking into the bathroom, I turn the shower on, blasting the pressure as high as it’ll go.
The room fills with steam, and I strip naked, standing in front of the mirror as it clouds more and more of me.
Looking at my reflection, something unusual happens. Something new and wonderful and, for long seconds. I forget about all the negative stuff I usually dwell in.
I think about my own body and say, Wow, she looks pretty good.
Sometimes these thoughts will come to me, little nuggets of self-esteem, but this is so much stronger than I’ve felt before.
I’ve always had to wonder if a man would be attracted to me since I’ve never pursued romance…and romance has definitely never pursued me.
But now I know at least one man is attracted to me.
And he just so happens to be the only one I want.
