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"How do I always end up in this position," she said, her arms around my neck.
I kissed her a couple times. "I like this position. In fact, consider this permanent."
She laughed into my mouth before pushing me back down onto my back.
"So." Her fingers started roaming my chest, and lower to my abs, her eyes following. "I'm not going to ask—about what happened when you were younger—but you said that you didn't speak for a while—what changed?" Her eyes moved up to meet mine.
I looked at her, trying to decide how much of myself I want to give her.
"What do you mean?" I asked, giving myself time.
"Well, what helped you to talk again? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sorry. It's probably extremely personal. Never mind—"
"If I tell you, then you have to tell me something about you. Deal?"
She nodded.
"Okay," I sat up slightly, leaning on my elbows. "My dad made up this game, to help me. It's called two truths for fifteen."
"How do you play?"
"It's so stupid, you're going to laugh."
"No I won't. Swear it." She pouted.
"It's just—" I laughed at how stupid it was going to sound. "We asked each other a question and had to tell the truth, and we talked about it for fifteen minutes. See? Stupid."
"It's not stupid. It's really sweet. Your dad seems like a nice guy."
"He is. He's the best." Truth. "Your turn."
She eyed the ceiling a moment, before answering. "You know how I hate blood?" I jerked my head in a nod. "It kind of really sucks, because I want to be a midwife." She paused and waited. "You can laugh now."
"Why? It's not funny. That sucks. Why midwife though?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I love the idea of bringing life into the world. Being one of the first to hold a miracle, you know? Babies—that's what they are. Miracles. I guess I like kids, too. Always have. So I'll just settle for childcare. Hopefully that won't involve too much blood." She chuckled to herself.
"It's called Hemophobia, you know? The fear of blood."
Her eyes went wide. "I know that. But how do you?"
I shrugged. I wasn't about to tell her I googled it the night I met her at Jake's house. "They say it's normally caused by trauma in childhood, or adolescence. Did something happen?"
She looked away. "Nope. Not that I know of," she said quickly. "So, that's me. I'm pretty boring."
"No, you most definitely are not boring."
She rolled her eyes, "You're just saying that because you want to get layooked."
I laughed. Hard.
She laughed with me, leaning into me hard enough that we both end up laying down, her on top of me.
I brushed the hair away from her face "I like you, Amanda. You're something else."
She leaned down and kissed me. Slowly. Softly. Then she pulled back, covered her mouth, and let out the biggest yawn known to man.
I had to laugh. "Am I boring you?"
She shook her head, still yawning. It ended with a grunt. "No, Logan. I'm so sorry. I'm just so tired. I normally have a quick nap after work, but I didn't and I guess—"
I cut in, "It's fine."
She sat up, and stretched.
I sat up, too. Then we just looked at each other. We both knew it was time, but I sure as hell didn't want it to be over.
She smiled sadly at me. "I guess you should probably take me home."
I broke our gaze and looked down. "Yeah, I guess." I ran the back of my fingers on her palm and the inside of her wrist.
"Yeah, I guess," she said quietly. I lifted my eyes to hers; she was looking down at our hands. "Or—I mean, I just need a power nap, and I'm good to go. Fifteen minutes," she said. Her eyes came back to mine, she looked unsure of herself.
I couldn't help the grin that took over. Maybe—just maybe—she felt the same for me as I felt for her.
I picked her up and walked over to the bed, lifted the covers and lowered her onto it. I kissed her on her forehead. "Goodnight, pretty girl."
"Where are you going?" She pulled on my hand.
I shrugged.
She scooted over.
I didn't even hesitate.
Then we just lay there, side by side, on our backs.
I felt the bed move and turned my head. She was on her side, her eyes half closed. "Just a quick powernap," she assured. I don't know whether she was speaking to herself or me.
"Okay," I said.
Then she scooted closer. I turned to my side and did the same. Her eyes opened fully, then locked on mine.
"Logan," she whispered.
I swallowed.
She moved closer.
I did the same.
A buzzing intensity ran through my body. We were so close.
Then I kissed her.
Our mouths moved. Our chests heaved. But nothing else.
No hands. No sounds. Nothing.
Nothing around us.
Not a single fucking thing. In that moment—it was just her.
Then she moved closer, her entire body flushed mine.
Our breathing got heavy.
She picked up my arm and positioned it over her waist. I pulled her closer to me. And without me realizing, her hips had started moving. Thrusting. Like she needed some form of relief. I wanted to give it to her. I had to give it to her. My hand went to her stomach. Lower. And lower. Until it was just above her pants. My fingers dipped under the band. Her hand stopped me. She pulled it out but placed in between her legs, over her pants. I could feel the warmth. I started touching her. She kissed me deeper. Harder. Her breathing got heavier, more erratic. I needed to give it to her. She moaned into my mouth. Then moved to lie on her back. Her knees raised. Her legs spread. Her fingers curled in my hair. I never stopped touching her. Then her hips started moving again. Pushing into my hand. All I could do was cup her and hope that it was enough. "I want to touch you," I whispered against her lips.
