Page 38 of Trust Me

“Because you would never dare cross the line, right?” I remind him, even though it was me who brought this on.

Elio’s gaze hardens, his jaw tight as he nods and pushes off his stool, walking away from me.

I’m left in the smoke of the fire between us as I return to my previous task. I top the cookies with the icing, but my previously happy mood is slightly soured. I only have myself to blame for the disappointment in my gut right now.

What did I think was going to happen? That I’d rile him up, like he did with me, and then what? He’d kiss me senseless?

We’re newly friends. Roommates. That’s it. And I’d do well to remember that, even if all I want is his lips on mine. It’s only temporary, along with the flutters that he makes me feel every time he’s around.

Temporary, that’s it.

This situation. These feelings.

There’s no point in ruining the important relationships in our lives over it when the resulting heartbreak and drama would be permanent.

Chapter 18

Jasmine

September came and went in a swoop of air, the summer wind leaving and the autumn chill entering early October. It’s my favorite time of year, purely for all of the baking.

I’ve been busy with school, working on my channel with Elio (which is doing amazingly well), hanging out with Camille, and even with Elio at home, making the time fly by.

Hockey season starts this weekend, and Elio could not be more excited. We have a comfortable routine now. We make each other breakfast and dinner and hang out at night, either playing chess, a board game, or simply relaxing on the couch together.

We’re finally friends, and it truly has lifted a weight off of my shoulders trying to avoid it.

There’s a lightness between us now, an ease to be living in the same space. But there’s also a palpable tension, at least that I feel on my end, since the icing incident.

It grows in the air every time we see each other looking somewhat indecent. Him with his shirt off or when my shorts are a little too short. When our gazes linger a little too long.

Our bodies have not once physically touched each other, which only makes me that much more curious about what it would feel like if they did.

Would there be a spark like the day we shook hands? Would my skin warm and my heart flutter as they do in my books?

Those are the kind of thoughts I’ve been trying to ignore for the past few weeks. To do so, I’ve been trying to focus on the joy of the new season ahead.

Once I’m doing being sick that is.

I woke up early this morning with my head pounding, my body full of aches, and my stomach revolting against me. I dashed to my bathroom as soon as I woke up, where I threw up all the food I ate yesterday.

Elio had an early morning meeting today, and I thanked God he hasn’t had to hear nor witness me in this state. I meant to text him that I wouldn’t be in class today, but I fell back asleep before I could.

My phone ringing wakes me up hours later, the sound not helping with the pounding in my head. I blindly reach for my phone, cracking one eye open enough to answer the call.

“Hello?” I answer, my own voice groggy and unknown to myself.

“What’s wrong? Where were you?” Elio’s concerned voice pours through the speaker.

“In bed,” I mumble, my mouth not wanting to open to talk. “I’m sick, so I didn’t make it to class.”

I already emailed my professor before I fell back asleep and have been internally stressing over it since. Camille hopefully took notes that I’ll be able to borrow, but still. I hate missing the lecture.

He grumbles something under his breath that I can’t decipher in this state of being, then he speaks more clearly. “Don’t get out of bed. I’ll be home soon.”

I want to argue with him and ask how soon that is, but he hangs up before I can say anything else. I obey his order, only because I literally cannot get out of this bed.

I fall back asleep, only to be woken up by the warm touch of a hand on my forehead. I blink a couple of times, landing on dark green eyes I know all too well.

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