Page 108 of My Roommate from Hell
I’m surprised, because over the past few hours I’d managed to convince myself that I’m the only one who is analyzing that moment over and over. I was pretty sure that Zarmenus had simply moved on. Is it seriously possible he has been as fixated as I was?
It seems too good to be true.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just can’t stop thinking about it, and I know until we talk it out, I won’t be able to sleep. Did I upset you?”
“No,” I say.
I think of a million lies to hide the truth. I could tell him that I simply didn’t want to, or that I don’t feel that way about him. That I have kept to our arrangement, and I only think of him as my annoying roommate, someone I’m only pretending to date in order to get an internship. I don’t want to lie to him, and I know from the regret I’ve felt that keeping things locked tight inside my chest isn’t a guaranteed success. It can feel worse than taking the leap and falling flat. It’s a different kind of pain, but it’s still pain.
I decide to take the leap and tell him what I’m feeling.
“I haven’t kissed anyone,” I say. “And if I’m going to kiss someone for the first time, I want it to be real.”
I search his face for the judgment I’m sure is going to be there. But there’s nothing.
“What makes you think it wouldn’t be real?”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m worried I’m close to a heart attack. What is going on right now? He scoots closer so he’s only inches from me. I remember how I felt in the shower, where I wished that I had said yes and gone for it. Somehow I’m right back in a moment that feels very similar, and my thoughts are still telling me that I should pull away, to swerve before I crash.
He puts his hand on my leg. I almost want to recoil, even thoughit feels so good. What is he doing? We have history, and so much on the line. Doesn’t he know how dangerous this is?
“If you want me to kiss you,” he says. “All you have to do is ask.”
His hand moves farther up my thigh, brushing the bare skin. The room feels even hotter now. I’ve never been touched there, and now I wish that I’d worn more than boxers after I left the shower. Also, who knew that being touched there would feel this good? It’s not exactly a noteworthy area of my body.
Does he want to kiss me? I am about to ask, but then I stop myself. That’s my doubts talking again. I should examine this logically. He climbed into my bed. He put his hand on the bare skin of my upper thigh and has talked about kissing me. He told me that the only thing stopping us from kissing is me giving him permission.
I don’t need to ask him if he wants to. He’s made that screamingly obvious.
“I’m nervous,” I say.
“It’s okay, we can go slow.”
He shuffles closer and leans in close, kissing my forehead.
“See, now you’ve been kissed. No reason to be nervous.”
I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Thank you.”
His smile settles, and he moves closer. His hand moves up my leg.
“This okay?” he asks.
“More than okay.”
We both move closer, and he kisses me properly.
He starts gentle, his lips just briefly pressing against mine. Still, it knocks me for six, the air in my lungs catching. His hand moves up my thigh to my side, running up my body to the side of my face. The touch totally overwhelms me. An out-of-control fire rages throughout my body. I close my eyes as he kisses me harder, our faces turning to the side. He pulls away, and the sudden loss is nearly too much for me. He is watching me, a hunger in his eyes, a want as intense as mine.
He comes back to kiss me, and this time it’s different. I fall backward, and he gets on top of me.
And it feels fucking good.
His hands go under my shirt, slipping under the material to touch the bare skin of my hips. His palms are rough and hot. He stops only to pull his shirt off, tossing it over the side of the bed so it falls to the floor.
I raise my hands, and in seconds my shirt is gone. Even if it’s still PG, being this naked around him is making my heart race at a dangerous speed.
