Page 40 of Tangled Hearts
I lowkey want to steal the sweats he had on this morning. I shouldn’t, right? I don’t even know where they are. Probably in his room, and I’m sure as shit not going in there. “Yeah, I’ll go change and take off my makeup.”
Nic hums, so I head into my bedroom. It doesn’t take long to change and take my makeup off, and when I’m wearing a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt, I step back into the living room.
Nic’s on the couch, wearing his sweats from this morning, and damn, I really should try to steal them. When he hears me, he turns to me, his eyes widening. “Uh, are you wearing pants?” My nose scrunches in confusion, and I glance down, then giggle when I realize my shirt is covering my shorts. I lift the hem, and Nic’s throat bobs. “Come sit down?”
I do. Nic flips through movie options on Netflix while I try to get comfortable. I’m thankful that he wants to spend time with me, in any capacity, but this has been such a good day. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent an entire day in someone’s company from start to finish.
It does the opposite of what I figured it would. Instead of it slaking a need, it just makes me want more, more,more. It’s incredibly selfish and probably a bit overdramatic. I’d call myself an attention whore, but my therapist doesn’t like that. Apparently, going years in a neglectful environment makes you crave attention. Who knew?
Nic starts a movie—something I’ve never seen before—and gets comfortable on his end of the couch. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I really don’t care what we watch, I’m just happy to have the company.
We watch the film in silence for a while, but I can’t stop myself from stealing glances at Nic out of the corner of my eye. A couple of times, he catches me, but he doesn’t call me out.
He looks warm andsafeand something about that type of solidness makes me want to seek shelter and curl into it.
Dammit. I hate this. I clear my throat, accidentally getting Nic’s attention, and he pauses the movie. “Everything okay?” I nod, cheeks burning. “There you are, nodding at me again.”
“It’s just that—” I start, cutting myself off at the absolutely inappropriate place my brain decided to go for a second. Nic just stares at me, eyes kind and patient, waiting me out. Ugh. “I was just thinkingyou look warm and cozy. Like you’d be good to cuddle with,” I blurt out, hot embarrassment rushing in. Oh shit. Why did I say that?
Nic smiles. This quiet, understated smile, and my heart slams against my ribs. Wordlessly, he lifts his arm in invitation and inclines his head. For a second, he doesn’t move. Just sits there, staring at me, smile etched onto his lips, eyes soft. “Well, come on then,” he murmurs. “Only if you want to, of course.”
God, I definitely want to. “Will you rub my back?” I hear myself asking.
The smile goes from soft and understated to blinding and heart-stopping. “Sure.” Nic chuckles, waving his arm a little.
I swallow down a rush of nerves and scoot closer to him, then take him up on his invitation and rest my head on his thigh, staring at the paused movie. Warmth settles against my back, and the movie starts playing again.
Nic makes slow circles on my back, his fingers dancing up and down my spine, squeezing my nape, trailing along my shoulder blades. It’s perfection, but like I said, I’m selfish and I want more, so I steel myself and prepare for rejection. “Skin?”
Nic’s hand pauses, and I’m sure—just sure—I’ve fucked up and he’s about to tell me to get off him. I can hear him inhale, and then the back of my shirt is being lifted and he’s sliding his hand underneath it.
My breath catches when his calloused palm brushes my lower back and his fingers resume their stroking, only now with his hand on my bare skin instead of over my shirt. I close my eyes and soak in the touch.
I’ve been touched before, of course, but nothing likethis,and the more he touches me, the more I feel. Never before have nails raking over my skin felt like electricity. Never has it made my heart pound and my stomach heat. It’s never made my breath catch and my lungs feel too small.
Nic makes another slow sweep up my back, then his thumb drags along my spine. I inhale a shaky breath, and he pauses. I don’t want him to stop, so I try to get control of myself, try to get my breathing to settle, and my body to relax.
After a brief hesitation, he continues. His fingertips lazily explore my skin, and where it started almost innocent, now it feels like… more. Reverent. Like he’s memorizing each inch of skin he comes across. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it.
I keep my eyes glued on the movie, but I’m not even seeing it. Rough fingertips brush over my ribs, and down my side, making a hard shiver rock through me. This time there’s no pause.
He’s touching me like it means something—likeImean something. I don’t know what to do. Is there even anythingtodo? I don’t think so. But I know I don’t want whatever it is to end.
When his fingers brush along the waistband of my shorts, I arch into his touch. I don’t even mean to. It’s like I have no control over myself. The force of it presses his hand harder against my body.
He exhales sharply, but still doesn’t stop. What are we doing? “Eli?”
My name is a question, spoken so softly I almost miss it. “Yeah?” I whisper, half-terrified that if I speak any louder, I’ll ruin the moment. That I’ll ruin everything.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, voice low and rough.
My throat tightens. He’s right. Ishouldtell him to stop. I don’t even know what we’re doing. Why I asked for this. Why he’s giving it. “No.”
“Eli…” A warning. A plea?
“Please don’t.”
