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It was cliché, but William’s erection was the first thing I felt as sleep slowly cleared from my brain. We were in a similar position to how we’d fallen asleep last night, just with his arm over the covers instead of under them, and my legs had shifted at some point, along with both our arms stretching out to the other side of the bed.
I guess I’d knocked away the one he had under my neck during the night.
Freedom and all that.
But now, as sun streamed in through the crack in the curtains, I was more than a little aware of the prodding against my bum cheeks.
Well, at least he really wasn’t lying about being attracted to me.
Not that I had any reason to doubt that he was. Since he’d kissed me yesterday, it’d been nothing but affection from him, even when I saw that he was trying to consciously stop himself.
I thought I’d mind, but I didn’t. In fact, I liked it. I liked the feeling of his hand on my lower back, of his fingertips brushing the back of my hand, of little touches to my shoulder to toy with a lock of my hair.
It’d been especially helpful last night after dinner. We’d been bombarded with questions, and although I felt equipped to handle them, I’d still been extremely nervous.
What if I’d messed up? What if I confused the lies? What if I told one person one story and their sister another? It was entirely possible, and that was the problem with lying—you spun a wicked web, but it was a weak web.
The lies all wove together into something shiny and special, but one wrong move and it would shatter.
That’s where I was now. Could we keep this up for one more night? Especially with people I knew were my friends—and his, too, I supposed. We could play it off as something we’d kept secret until now, but then we’d have to orchestrate a breakup to a wider circle of people than I’d thought.
It was hitting me how much of a bad idea this had been. Our circles were so intertwined, and although I hadn’t known that to begin with, staying had been a dreadful decision. I should have left as soon as I found out who he was.
It would have been easier in so, so many ways.
I wouldn’t be feeling like this, that was for sure. I wouldn’t be content to be curled up against him while he slept, feeling his heavy exhales warmly dance across my skin. I wouldn’t be so comfortable being held by him, being touched a thousand times, being kissed in the dreamiest of ways.
We had two and a half days left of this charade, and then it would be back to real life.
I’d be back to studying, desperately trying to finish my PhD on time. He’d go back to… whatever it was he did. I didn’t even know. I’d never asked.
How didn’t I know that?
Either way, everything would return to normal. I’d go back to my life, living with my best friend, and William would go back to whatever it was he did with his.
Wouldn’t it?
I was fine. Whatever this connection was between us would go away. They always did, although I’d never felt one quite like this.
Being with him was so easy. Aside from the lies, it didn’t feel like we were pretending to be together. Hell, I’d felt less comfortable with actual boyfriends, like being a real-life girlfriend was harder work than this.
But I didn’t want this.
I didn’t want this upper-class, gossip-filled, extravagant life.
I wanted a normal life. A normal house, a normal husband, normal kids, no obligations or titles or anything that would complicate things. And even if I did accept that I had feelings for William, that would never be an option for him.
Did I want that, though?
Was it worth giving up what you thought you wanted for something or someone you didn’t know you needed?
I’d been adamant from day one that I’d never speak to William again after this weekend, but was that even an option for me now?
No.
The little whisper in the back of my head was right. There was no way I’d be able to ignore the man forever. His family had stories of my mum and my childhood that I wanted to hear, and he was a part of that.
Maybe I didn’t want to never speak to him.
