Page 90 of Resurrection
My brain agrees with the assessment of the situation, but my heart doesn’t.
We lie in a heap, our hearts racing, our skin covered with the salty taste of our unexpected reunion.
I don't move, afraid that doing so will shatter whatever this moment is.
Eventually, Ty rolls off me to stretch out on his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He watches me with an expression I can't quite read, like he's not sure whether this was the beginning of something or the end.
I can't look at him, not with my head spinning. I can't even tell if this is the aftermath of the orgasm or the alcohol. I fix my gaze on the ceiling instead, feeling both exhilarated and horribly, horribly unsure of my motivations. There is still leftovers of his cum between my thighs and inside my pussy and I know I need to clean myself up but I don't dare to move.
"So?" he says, that single word full of questions.
I force a smile, but it wavers with my indecision. "So?"
"Same old us," he says, but there's a hint of uncertainty in his voice that almost makes me laugh. Almost.
"Seems like," I reply, pulling the sheet up to cover my bare skin. "But not really, Ty."
"I know."
He doesn't push for more, and I try to tell myself I'm glad he doesn't. I pretend the rapid pounding of my heart is from exertion and not from the idea that I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life.
I sit up, pulling the sheet tighter around me, needing a barrier between his body and mine before round two happens. Because I'm already wet again just from looking at him.
Ty scrutinizes me with those clear blue eyes.
I take a deep breath, diving into dangerous waters. "This was just physical,"I say, and my voice comes out stronger than I expect. "No strings." The words hang between us like smoke, and deep down, I know I’m lying to myself.
His fingers trace patterns on my shoulder, leaving trails of warmth. I pretend not to notice how good it feels. "It's not like we haven't been here before," he finally says. I don't know if he's talking about the resort or something else entirely.
"Just so we're clear," I say, my tone firm even if my insides are a mess. "I'm not looking for anything serious."
He nods, but there's a look on his face that tells me he doesn’t agree. "Right. No strings," he repeats.
"It's not that I don't—" I stop myself, the words tangling like everything else in this room. I don't know what to say, I realize.
His hand drifts down my arm, his touch soft but insistent. I fight the urge to lean into it, to give in. Instead, I pull the sheet up even more, using it as a shield.
"It's fine, Nomes," Ty says, sitting up beside me. "We can do it however you want. You choose the pace."
It stings that he doesn’t argue, doesn’t demand to be loved, to be taken back. But I don't let it show. Besides, it’s for the best. "Last time, it ended badly," I remind him. "I don't want to go through that again."
"Neither do I." His voice is so honest, it almost makes me believe him.
Silence ensues, and I wonder if he can hear my heart, loud and nervous in the quiet room.
I break it first. "So are you going to the reunion in June?"
"I was thinking about it," he replies.
"I don’t believe you."
"Why not?"
I narrow my eyes, teasing but half serious. "You tend to run off."
Ty looks away, his jaw tight. It's the reaction I was expecting but hoping not to get.
He raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
