Page 112 of Faker
He squints, then smiles, seeming to understand. “All the time you need.”
“Maybe next weekend.”
His lips purse. “I don’t know. Don’t you think that’s a bit soon?”
I nudge his rock-hard stomach with my elbow, and he booms a throaty laugh, pinning me against his chest with both arms.
“Do you hear that?” Tate says.
It takes a few seconds, but I zero in on a faint beeping sound.
“That’s your phone,” he says. “It’s been beeping for the past few minutes.”
I was clearly caught up in the moment, because I didn’t hear a thing. “It’s my sister. I hung up on her earlier to answer the door. She’s going to blow up my phone till I call her back.”
He gathers my hair off my shoulder and brushes his lips against my bare flesh. Another phone beep. I close my eyes, wishing we could enjoy each other without any more interruptions.
“She probably wants to make sure you’re okay. You should talk to her. And you’re right, I need to get going.” He rolls away and sits up, pulling me up to stand with him.
I turn playful and pull him to face me. “One more kiss. Please?” My voice is a breathy whisper. There’s a flame in his eyes.
The heat between us reignites, and he grabs at my naked body with urgency. If I were wearing clothes, they’d be torn off in an instant. I reach for him, but he holds both of my wrists in a firm grip. Our foreheads press together while we take deep gulps of air, waiting for our breaths to steady. By the heat of this kiss, you’d never guess we’d just finished ravaging each other in his bed.
His grip moves to my waist. It’s firm yet soft, just like him. Our bodies work so well together whether we’re lying down or standing.
“Emmie, I...”
The low, gentle tone of his voice is a cloud floating between us.He runs his fingers through my hair again. I savor the sweet contact. A minute passes without him saying anything. Heavy panting is the only sound we make.
“What is it?” I say, opening my eyes.
His stare jolts me. He’s stripped a layer of himself and is letting me see through his eyes. I feel like I can peer miles inside of him. There’s affection, longing, and something else. Something deep and far off. I want him to tell me exactly what it is.
“Just say it,” I whisper. I’m shaking so hard on the inside, my fingertips twitch.
“You should get dressed and go home,” he says quietly. “Skype with your sister. She needs to see you.”
I nod, disappointed. He was about to say something important but chickened out. His take-it-slow nature wins out once more.
We dress in silence, our backs to each other. It’s probably better this way. If we made eye contact, we’d end up sidetracked in his bed or shower. I slip on my black dress and heels while he grabs the Oscar the Grouch T-shirt I dropped on the bathroom floor and pulls it on.
“You should wear something else,” I say while rifling in my purse for my keys. “I hadn’t showered when I wore that.”
“I like it though. It smells like you. This way I’ll have you with me the rest of the day.” His tender tone compels me to turn around.
Last night, he was the one to put himself on the line when he revealed his feelings to me. And now there’s something I can do to show him just how strongly I feel. I tackle him with a bear hug.
“What’s this all about?” he asks with a chuckle.
“You’ll see tomorrow.” I dart down the staircase and walk out the door.
thirty
Monday morning begins with my knee shaking against a chair. I can’t help it; I’m so excited I could burst. Luckily, no one is nearby to notice. I’m fifteen minutes early on the first day of my new work life. Everything is the same except how I feel about my across-the-hall office neighbor. I had all of Sunday, a two-hour Skype conversation with Addy, and an hour phone call with Kaitlin to bathe in my newfound bliss. There is zero doubt, and I want everyone to know.
The piece of paper lying in my lap is the first step. Every time I hear footsteps down the hall, my head nearly snaps off my neck to see if it’s Tate. My neck is starting to cramp due to all the false starts, but this time when I turn it’s him.
He stops short at the front of his desk, a question on his face. Before he can ask me why I’m sitting in his office instead of my own, I stand up and hand him a crisp new copy of the Nuts & Bolts relationship disclosure form, complete with my information written on it.
