Page 54 of Blue

I clutched the cotton to my chest, absorbing the water trickling from my hair.

“But not tonight.” He stepped out of the bathroom. “Sully could be home soon, and I don’t want our being here making him uncomfortable.”

I followed him as I wrapped the towel around my body, underneath my arms, and tucked the tail between my breasts.

Blue strode toward the door, and my heart took a hit.

“Are you leaving?”

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder with his brows creating a deep V. “Get changed. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

He crossed the hall, and I scampered to the dresser, grabbed a pair of panties, then pulled on sleep shorts and a sports bra. I needed to straddle the line between wanting to jump his bones and be his best friend. The problem was that I had no idea where the line was with us. Going braless would be a step too far, but I wanted to show some skin because I loved the way he stared at my body.

After taking a comb through my hair, I gathered our dirty clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket in the bottom of the closet.

I turned on the television and dropped the remote onto the bed. Blue came back into the room. Jeans hung low on his hips, showing off the sexy lines of his obliques and transversus abdominals. Flat nipples centered on his pectorals. His long torso was honed with sleek muscles. Veins roped his arms, and the only hair on his chest trailed past his navel in a thin trail to disappear in his jeans.

He was beautiful…and talented. I laughed. On one arm, he balanced a plate of cold pizza slices on top of a couple cans of soda. In the other, he had a bowl of grapes. He smiled around a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He dropped them on the bed and placed the rest of the snacks on the nightstand along with his phone. “Do you think Sully is going to care that I raided his fridge?”

“He won’t care as long as you don’t eat his Fig Newtons.”

“No chance of that. He had pork rinds in the pantry, too. I don’t see how anyone can eat that shit.”

“You’re not a fan of pork?”

“Of bacon, yes, but not fried pork skin.”

“What about pork chops, ribs, ham, oh my god, and sausage?”

“I see you’re a connoisseur of pig.” Blue climbed onto the bed, adjusted the pillows, then leaned against the headboard, and stretched out his legs. “What are we watching?”

I climbed onto the bed next to him. “I don’t care. It’s been a while since I’ve been hooked on any shows.”

Blue flipped to the menu, clicked over to Netflix, and scrolled across the options, picked the first choice, and started the show.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“No clue.” He handed me a soda, opened the bag of chips, and set it between us.

“You know you’re going to leave crumbs in my bed,” I said as I crunched on a chip.

“You’ll have to come across the hall and sleep in my room.”

“As long as we have a plan for after we’re in a food coma from all this.” I laughed and grabbed another chip, but nervous energy still simmered in my gut. We’d just showered together, he ate my pussy, and we were back to being friends with a foot of space between us.

Another chip, a drink of soda, another chuckle from something that happened on the show, and the tension thickened in the room. At least for me.

There were so many things I wanted to say but didn’t know how to start. I didn’t know his triggers the way he understood mine. But I didn’t want to keep doing this, wanting more, then pretending nothing happened.

Only the light from the television illuminated the room. He focused on the screen, but I couldn’t help wondering if he was doing the same thing as me, avoiding all that was left unsaid between us. I understood being afraid. I hated the insecurities polluting my thoughts. Blue wasn’t any different than me.

Shadows cut across his cheekbones, and tension tightened his jaw. I rolled to my side. Now, he’d know I didn’t care about the television show. I cared about us. I wanted to talk.

Another minute of silence stretched between us.

I wasn’t good with exposing my lack of confidence. I didn’t want to lose him, but did I really have him? I didn’t, not if the feeling of my hands on him hurt him. Not if he couldn’t trust me. Not if he shut me out.

Swallowing down my fear, I spoke first. “We don’t have to have sex for me to be your girlfriend.” I fought my tears. I wasn’t going to make him feel worse about whatever fucked up thoughts swirled around in his brain. “I don’t need anything but to be with you for you to be my boyfriend.”

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