Page 5 of The Forever Experiment

“Fuck, I didn’t think about how cold it is when I ruined those tights,” I say as she shivers beside me.

“It’s okay. It’s a short walk.” Her teeth chatter with every word.

I slip off my coat, tossing it around her shoulders. I don’t know how much it’s going to help with her bare legs exposed to the elements, but it’s all I have to offer.

It’s quiet as we make our way to her apartment near campus, but it’s not the awkward I-just-fucked-a-classmate-in-the-library silence you’d expect. It’s a comfortable I-just-came-so-hard silence that makes you want to crawl in bed with the person you were intimate with and hold them all night.

As we reach Maya’s complex, she rifles through her purse for her keys before facing me and shrugging off my coat. “Thanks for letting me wear your jacket,” she says softly. “And for…um…the orgasm.”

“Orgasms.” I smile. “Plural.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Right. Thank you for themultipleorgasms, Easton.”

She’s so fucking pretty when she’s rolling her eyes at me. I can’t stop myself from blurting, “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Her lips tilt up soft, tone gentle as she says, “We’re not doing this again. It’s not going to become a thing.” Her eyes drop to the ground. “I’m not going to get wrapped up in a relationship when I’ll be moving for law school in just a few months.”

“I understand.” I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “So, if I only get to have you once, can I at least do it right?”

She softens at that, her smile growing wider as she nods. I bring my other hand to her cheek now, twisting my fingers in her hair as I drag her mouth to mine. I feather my lips between hers, kissing her softly and tasting her gently, desperate to prolong the moment as long as possible.

Something about Maya just feels right when she’s pressed against my chest, mouth on mine. I know we’re nothing, that we’ll never be anything, but fuck, I wish that wasn’t the case. The way she moans as our tongues dance makes me wonder if she’s thinking the same, and it’s cemented when she fists my sweater and hauls us closer together, like she’s not ready for it to end either.

She pulls away first—because I sure as fuck am not going to—blinking rapidly, like she’s floating back to reality, waking up from a dream. I feel the same, swiping my thumb against her cheek one final time before forcing myself to step away.

She stumbles toward the door of her apartment, and because I’m a glutton for punishment, I can’t stop myself from calling out as she slides her key into the lock. “Don’t forget about that marriage pact, Maya baby. I’ll be calling you at midnight on your fortieth birthday, and I expect an answer.”

“Goodnight, Easton,” she tsks with a laugh.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” I shout as she opens her door.

She stands in the frame, winking at me before shutting it behind her.

1

Easton

“Derrick, I promise, Ido not need your cut-out paper hearts strung above my door.”

“Of course, you do. They’re for good luck so you can get laid on next week’s holy day.”

“Those hearts aren’t going to do anymore for my sex life than they are for yours,” I mutter to my assistant, watching him stand on a chair in the doorway to my office as he strings pink, red, and white heart-shaped garland above the frame.

He spent the better part of the morning drawing and cutting them out at his desk outside my office, and I’m suddenly feeling the need to put out an ad for a new assistant.

“At least I have a sex life,” he sings.

I scoff, flipping him my middle finger before going back to my computer screen. Winter in Boise is normally a busy time for personal injury litigation. Slick roads, crashed cars, you know the drill—though my firm has been unseasonably slow since the holidays.

My sex life is no different.

It’s only February 10th,I remind myself. I’ve been irrationally afraid I’m going to find myself having a dry year, and Derrick’s antics don’t fucking help.

Thank God I’ve got a trip planned to see my sisters at the end of the month. I need to get out of this office and out of the cold.

“Did you eat grapes and sit beneath a table on New Year’s Eve?” he asks as he steps off the chair and begins to pick up his scraps of paper.

“No, I didn’t fucking eat grapes…” My words die on my tongue as my eyes snag on a newsletter from the American Bar Association.

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