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A fresh wave of emotions crashes over us upon that one gaze of affection. The intensity of his stare practically cripples me. The heartfelt apologies, the tender kissing, the passionate sex…
It's all too real here before us.
Don't say it. Please don't say it.
Lake grabs my jaw in his hand, angling my face towards his. He's breathless, as if he's still inside me. Licking his lips, he peers at mine before his eyes tear through me again.
Don't say it.
Please don't say it.
I can't say it back.
Not yet.
I'm nowhere near ready. I can't love him until I know him. All of him.
The words lie there on his tongue, but the message is already being transmitted through the heartfelt ache in his gaze.
I beg him with my mind to silence his truth, but it's no use. His thumb sweeps across my cheek. He peers at my mouth, then my eyes again, as if he's imagining a world without me, the idea shattering him already.
Swallowing, he starts, “Dylan.”
My heart is in my throat. Can't breathe. Lightheaded. Drowning.
He runs his thumb softly across my bottom lip, the confusion and surprise at his recent discovery apparent in that creased brow.
“I—”
The sound of keys in the door straightens my spine.
“Shit!” I gasp, my eyes widening in terror.
I've totally lost track of time and space. Colin was on his way home from work. And now he's here. Outside the door. And Lake just fucked me on the table. Lake Decker fucked me from behind on the kitchen table. On top of my bills.Who am I?!
“It's Colin! Quick! Go...g-get under the bed!” I grab his arm, pushing him back towards my room.
He laughs lightly, easily brushing me off as he turns to face me, his sweatshirt hanging on his fit frame with his white t-shirt slipping out of the bottom all lopsided. It's the lazy, satisfied grin that sets it off. We look like we just fucked. It's so obvious.
“I'm a grown-ass man, Dylan. I'm not hiding under a bed,” he says with gravel in his tone.
Yes. Yes, you are, Lake. A big man, indeed.
I shake my head, snapping myself out of this intoxicating wave he always seems to send my way, still feeling that subtle yet sore ache between my legs to remind me.
The key clicks and the door opens as I pat at my ponytail, smoothing any loose hairs, cocking my head with one of the fakest grins I've ever slapped on my face. I look like a saleswoman trying to sell the fact that I’m indeed not a sex fiend, but a professional. A true professional.
Lake's lip twitches and his brow raises as he watches me try to figure out which hip to place my hand on as I stand next to him, deciding on holding my neck and collarbone where a large handprint is more than likely imprinted.
“Pickle!” Colin calls out as he walks in, his arms carrying his backpack against his chest like it's been stuck there since his bus ride.
I'm not breathing. I'm holding my breath with this fake-ass smile, hoping I look way more natural than I feel. The room is still heated with the aftermath of sex. It's swirling around us and landing on my face like a giant billboard of truths.
Colin immediately stalls in place, looking from me to Lake.
“What's up, Col?” Lake says casually, moving to sit down at the chair near the table. He kicks back in his Nike sweats, his white socks crossing at the ankles. He took his shoes off? When did he remove his shoes? A gentleman even in raw passion.
“Hope you don't mind that I stopped by.”
