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“I picked up a job in Cairo.”
I step from the shower as he hands me a towel. “Oh?”
“Mm,” he confirms, eyes tracking over my naked body in want.
We’ve been living in an easy bliss for twelve weeks. Three uninterrupted months of just us touching and loving one another, acting like giddy tourists. Exploring the buzzing city we’d found each other in.
We rode bikes over the bustle of the Brooklyn Bridge.
We stuffed ourselves full of pizza in Little Italy.
We waited in line until our feet hurt and our tempers flared to stand atop of the Empire State Building and share a kiss in the twilight.
We rode the ferry across to Staten Island to catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.
Brooks surprised me with a carriage ride around Central Park.
We got lost staring at books in the New York State Library and ate pretzels bigger than our heads.
We sat in awe in the theaters on Broadway and watched show after show.
We went to comedy shows.
Ate at the top-rated restaurants in the city.
We lived.
We explored.
Together.
Brooks finished his gig a month ago and has stuck around while I hit the tail end of my current course.
I towel off my hair, pretending to ignore the hardening cock in his boxers. “When?”
“Starts in a week.”
I drop the towel loosely at my side. “Oh.”
“We knew this would happen, Squirrel.”
“I know,” I assure him, working to rid the panic in his eyes. “When do you leave?”
“Come here.” He curls a finger up, beckoning me over.
I go without resistance.
“Two days.”
“Fuck.”
“Mm.” His lips touch my neck, resting there as he plants soft kisses on my damp skin over and over again.
I can feel the words on his lips. I know he wants to ask me to come with him. He wants me to see Cairo with him.
“Don’t ask. Don’t ruin what we’ve started before we’re ready.”
“Beforeyou’reready,” he combats quietly without animosity.
