Denial (9 page)

“Stop,” he whispers, holding incredibly still. “We need to cool off.”

I’m left standing alone as he retreats down the hallway.
Damn you, Luke. Like you ever operate with any restrictions. Like your lips stay off those of the other women you screw. I’m trying to calm down, trying to remember why I’m here, but it’s not working. I’m just getting angrier.

Isaac is walking toward me, wearing his serious mask and carrying both of our bags down the hallway. He puts each of them in our respective rooms. I feel like I’m going to cry and he must be able to see it, because his expression softens as he approaches me slowly, reaching out to slide his hand through my hair. I grab his wrist and lock eyes with him. His lips are getting closer and I am dying, screaming,
aching
to feel then against mine.

But instead they kiss the tip of my nose. Then my brow. I close my eyes and feel his lips press against both of my eyelids. My cheeks, my chin, my jaw. His hand wraps around the back of my neck and his mouth moves closer to mine, so close, kissing every little piece of skin that’s allowed. My lips start to tremble along with the rest of my body. Why does it feel like this? I’ve never experienced anything like it. I’m on fire.

His hand makes a fist in my hair and pulls my body away from his. It doesn’t hurt. “Okay, go change before I do something really fucking stupid.”

Really fucking stupid sounds perfect right now.
I let out a comically frustrated growl that makes us both chuckle as we disappear into our rooms. I can’t get changed fast enough, my mind flashing on what he looks like right on the other side of this wall as he takes off his clothes. The shirt he brought me is so soft.

When we meet up in the hallway, lust threatens to overtake us again but he shrugs it off. I squeal as he lifts me into the air effortlessly, throwing me over his shoulder and giving me a playful smack on the ass. “Help me out here. Be good.”

“I’m trying,” I giggle.

He tosses me on the couch and heads in to the kitchen, shooting me a look that tells me I shouldn’t push my luck and follow him.

“Um, do you want to do the full on date night movie thing, popcorn and all that stuff?” he says. That shy voice tempers my arousal, but it’s replaced by butterflies in my stomach. I need to get them back in their jar.

“Yeah, sure.” Geez. Now who sounds like they’re at their first dance?

“How do you feel about brownies?”

“Probably the same way everyone feels. They’re completely repulsive.”

Letting out a surprised laugh, his eyebrows shoot up as he heads over to the freezer. “There is no way in hell you’re such a smart ass with him.”

“No, he hates that about me. He doesn’t like a lot of stuff about me. You probably have a list.”

“So why are you with him?”

I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately.
“I don’t think date night involves talking about the other guy I’m seeing.”

“Good point.”

He flops next to me and hands me the bowl of popcorn. “What’s on it?”

“Garlic infused butter and parmesan cheese.”

“This is crazy good,” I mumble with my mouth full.

“Thanks.” Putting a grin on his face is far more satisfying that it should be. I hope it happens a lot in bed. “It’s probably too late to find anything good on, but we have Netflix.”

“Too bad we didn’t get here earlier.
True Blood
was on tonight.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” he replies. “I didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding like a wuss.”

A list of my favorite shows pops up on the screen. “You recorded it?” I say with more excitement than intended.

“It’s not like I’m a fan or anything. I did it for you.”

“You just met me.”

“Semantics.” He reaches into the bowl and scoops out a handful.

“I thought you said something about brownies.”

“They’re thawing on the counter.”

“Can’t you just put them in the microwave?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I guess I should be grateful to even smell them at this point. I haven’t had anything remotely resembling dessert for over a month.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about him.”

Rolling my eyes because he won’t do anything about it, I playfully smack his knee as he laughs at me. Somewhere in the middle of the show he yawns dramatically, stretching his arms up above his head and nonchalantly wrapping one of them around my shoulders. We banter back and forth about how cheesy that was, but I scoot closer. This is a little too much fun, not how I thought tonight would go at all. I push away my apprehension about what tomorrow will bring as I nuzzle my face against his pec and he kisses the top of my head.

8

Something loud on the television must have woken me up. Maya is sound asleep with her head still on my thigh. I thought I was having going to have a heart attack when she did that.

They told me she was going to be impossible and I can tell that they’re right, but there’s no way this is going to be a waste of my time. I laughed so much tonight my cheeks still hurt. I doubt she’ll make it through the day tomorrow, but hopefully she won’t be so scared of me that she doesn’t want to try.

She breathes loudly as she shifts, her little hand curling up on my knee. That position doesn’t look comfortable but I don’t want to wake her up. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to carry her to bed. I lean her upwards and slowly pull her into my lap, doing my best to avoid my raging erection in case she wakes up during the process. She doesn’t.

In the hallway she makes this squeaky little moan and wraps her arms around my neck. What the hell am I thinking? This is so out of line and it isn’t fair to give her false hope that she’s going to have a good time here. Not with me.

She’s in bed, tucked in looking far more peaceful that she should be. I’ve done what I was supposed to do and I should get the hell out of here, but I can’t make myself take a single step towards that door. Or pry my eyes off of her. Would it be so wrong to climb in next to her right now? She actually seemed a little disappointed that we had separate rooms, but maybe I was reading too much into that. It seems to be a theme for me tonight.

It’s not like I want to hurt her or grope her. I’m just so sick of sleeping alone. It’s going to be extremely awkward if she wakes up right now, but it’s worth the risk. Making sure the bed moves as little as possible, I climb in beside her, but now that I’m here my heart is beating so fast it’s probably loud enough to wake her up. Well, that fucking backfired. There’s no way I’m going to be able to fall asleep.

Maybe turning my back to her would help, because staring at her is definitely making it harder in more ways than one. How am I going to do what I need to do when we wake up? I should probably send her away, but the idea of it makes me sick to my stomach. If she goes with somebody else, they are seriously going to fuck her up. I don’t think she quite understands what she’s involved with.

She shifts behind me and I struggle not to flip over to see how she’s laying now. By the sound of her breathing she’s still asleep, but her hand lands on the back of my neck
, her fingers stroking my hair. It’s so hard to breathe when she touches me. Or says my name. There’s no fucking way I’m not going to be able to do this now. What the fuck was I thinking?

It’s so soothing to get touched like this. Such a simple act, just one point of contact, but right now it’s the whole world.
I have to keep myself from getting attached, it’s just going to make it worse for both of us. Her fingers are so soft, moving slower as her breaths get deeper and farther apart. My eyelids are heavy. It feels so good.

Holy shit it’s hot. And really bright. My heart races when I wake up enough to realize that she’s wrapped up in my arms and my nose is in her hair. How did my arm get under her neck without either of us waking up? Maybe she crawled in here. Don’t be fucking stupid, she’s going to think you did something to her when she opens those inquisitive blue eyes. Hopefully you didn’t, asshole.

I’m not going to freak when she wakes up and wants to run out of that door. It’s for the best. Maybe I’ll get a few more minutes to feel her body against mine. Her hand is curled up next to her face, resting on my chest. I never get to do this. It doesn’t get any better.

She yawn
s and stretches her legs straight. Fuck. Any minute now. How am I going to explain myself, I don’t even remember how we got like this. She squirms a little, swallowing. Shit. Yeah, she’s definitely awake and it’s taking an incredible amount of effort not to move. Am I seriously going to pretend to be asleep to avoid this awkward conversation? It’s the only thing that comes to mind.

My eyes close automatically when I see that she’s lifting her face upwards to peek at mine. Keep your breathing even. If you’re going to be this pathetic, at least make it believable. I brace myself for her to slip away but instead she moves closer with a sleepy yawn and plants a little kiss on my sternum, nuzzling into my chest.

Did that seriously just happen? I must be hallucinating. Well, I’m just going to go with it because I’ve never wanted to stay anywhere more in my life. When I’m relatively certain that she’s fallen back asleep, I hold her tighter and kiss the crown of her head, wishing that this was real instead of a dream.

Does he hold her like this? Does she think I’m him right now? That’s a good explanation. I shouldn’t let myself get too excited, not that I really have a choice. How can he hurt her when she’s so sweet? Fragile. Trusting. Completely fucking adorable. I guess that’s not the question I need to be asking myself right now. I should be more concerned with whether or not I’m going to be able to hurt her. Because if I can’t, she has to leave. And if she has to leave, then someone else is going to put his hands on her and he is not going to stop when she safewords. I know
Luke doesn’t.

What the hell are you doing here, Maya?

9

“Hey, wake up.”

My heart is thudding in my ears when I open my eyes. For a split second I wonder who I’m looking at before the memories of last night come flooding back. Isaac’s arms surround me. Are we in bed?

“Hi,” I peep.

“Hi.” He kisses my forehead. “You were whimpering. Do you have nightmares?”

“I think so. I never remember them,” I lie. I wish I didn’t. “Um, did we…”

“No. We fell asleep on the couch.”

“How’d we get tangled up?”

“I don’t remember. Must have happened in our sleep after I carried you in here.”

He didn’t sleep in his own bed. Stop smiling like an idiot, he’s still looking at you. “This is a little awkward.”

“Not as awkward as it would be if we had ended up spooning,” he laughs, glancing downward. I blush when I figure out what he means. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Well, he
might be better looking in the daylight, but I know I’m not. My self-consciousness makes it easier to crawl out of his arms. The momentary disappointment on his face keeps me from leaving the bed entirely. I prop myself up a pillow against the headboard.

He flips on his back and covers his face with his hands. Right. It’s tomorrow now.

“I should probably… I guess we should…” I babble. “I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay.” His voice is muffled through his fingers.

“Am I in trouble?” Could I sound any more pathetic?

“No,” he shoots back, sitting upright beside me.

My eyes drop down quickly when he turns toward me. “Am I allowed to look at you?”

Isaac lets out a frustrated breath that borders on a growl. “I don’t know.”

I gulp, fighting back tears. “Do you like to do this at all?”

“I do, but… fuck!”

In other words, he can’t tell me. I curl my knees up to my chest and roll my lips together. I should go. I can’t do this, not with him. Or probably anyone. A teardrop rolls down my cheek, leaving a cool trail behind it.

“Don’t cry,” he says, rising to his knees and wiping it away.

“Yes, Sir,” my voice cracks, but my eyes overflow. He finally gives me an order and I can’t do what he says. This is hopeless.

“Fuck this!”

“Are you mad at me?”

“
No
. Not even close. This isn’t your fault, it’s mine. But please, stop fucking crying.”

“Okay,” I peep.

Since that isn’t an option, I fold my arms around my knees and hide my face as he crawls out of bed and leaves. The door to his room slams shut, making me jerk and let out a sob. I’d better go. Just thinking about the phone call I’ll get from Luke makes me sick to my stomach. A loud thud reverberates through the wall, as if Isaac punched the other side.

I had so much fun last night. We
really
hit it off, I can still feel his arms around me. I’m glad I enjoyed it, because now that I’m single it will probably be a while until I feel like that again, not that Luke ever wants to cuddle. I don’t want to be single, to start over, but this isn’t going to work. I let it go too far and there’s no turning back. I never should have called Luke out on his cheating. Why can’t I just keep my stupid mouth shut?