Twenty-Eight
TWENTY-EIGHT
LEORA
" G oodnight, let me know if you guys need anything," Amélie says before leaving us in front of the guest room.
The room we will be sharing.
Lucas opens the door, and I walk in. It’s a nice room that is decorated in neutral colors, and the bed is made up with crisp, white sheets and fluffy pillows. The curtains are drawn, and the soft glow of the bedside lamp creates a warm and cozy atmosphere.
Then my eyes go back to the bed. There’s only one queen bed and no sofa for either of us to sleep on. Meaning, we will have to share the bed too.
Lucas closes the door behind us, startling me, and walks up behind me. I move to my suitcase and rummage through it until I find my pajamas.
His close presence makes me nervous. "I'll just go in there and get ready," I say, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.
I enter the bathroom, my heart fluttering. Our lips were devouring each other not that long ago, and now I’m supposed to pretend it didn’t happen and act normal?
The sexual tension between us is undeniable, and I’m not sure if I can resist the temptation, but maybe he will.
I take a deep breath and splash some water on my face, trying to calm myself down. I change into my comfortable pajamas—a soft and cozy set of shorts and a tank top—and complete my nighttime routine before stepping out of the bathroom. Lucas is standing by the bed, looking at his phone with a crease between his eyebrows.
"Is everything okay?"
He looks up at me, his eyes taking in my appearance. For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to say something or do something. But then he clears his throat. "Yeah, everything's fine."
A lump forms in my throat as I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I’ll take the floor tonight. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
I raise my eyebrows, he really can’t see me as anything other than a friend. He would rather sleep on the floor than next to me. However, the idea of him sleeping on the ground is almost more uncomfortable for me.
"No, no, that's not necessary," I say quickly. "We can share a bed for a weekend. I won’t jump you, don’t worry."
He nods slowly, ignoring my latter comment, and I can see the relief in his eyes.
"Okay then, what side do you prefer?"
"Um, I don't know," I mumble, avoiding his gaze. "I guess I'll take the left side."
"Great." He starts to unbutton his shirt.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking off my shirt?" His head tilts to the side as he looks at me with an amused expression.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, I can see that, but why?"
"We’re going to bed, aren’t we?"
I gesture toward his immaculate torso. "Are you planning on sleeping without a shirt?"
"Yeah, I usually sleep like this. Is that a problem? I can put on a t-shirt."
"No, no. Not a problem at all. I was just surprised, that’s all," I say, feeling a little embarrassed at my reaction. "Do whatever makes you comfortable."
Lucas nods and finishes unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a toned chest with a sprinkling of hair. My eyes trail over his body, unable to resist the sight. The light reflects on his olive skin, enticing a desire to reach out and touch it. At this moment, he looks more like a piece of art than anything we’ll see in the Louvre tomorrow.
"Like what you see?" There’s a smirk on his face, like he knows exactly what I was thinking.
I flush and look away. "I was just . . ."
"Admiring the view?" he finishes for me, a teasing glint in his eyes.
I playfully roll my eyes. "You wish."
"You’ve seen me shirtless before, Leora."
"Yeah, I know."
He chuckles softly. "Then why are you blushing?"
I feel my cheeks burning even more as I try to avoid his gaze. "I mean, it's not like I was staring or anything," I mutter, mortified. "I just . . . noticed."
Lucas raises an eyebrow. "Noticed, huh? What did you notice, Leora?" he asks, his smirk growing more prominent. I must look like a ripe tomato at this point.
I clear my throat nervously. "I just noticed that you have a lot of tattoos," I reply, avoiding eye contact with him.
Lucas chuckles. "Do you like tattoos? "
I shrug, feeling flustered. "I don't know. I guess."
"Do you like my tattoos?" Lucas's question catches me off guard, and I find myself at a loss for words. After a moment of hesitation, I meet his gaze and reply, "I-I mean, they're nice. They look good on you." I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for his response, unsure of how he'll react.
"Just nice?" He takes a few steps toward me. "Have you seen many tattoos like this, Leora?" His tone is low and it sounds like a challenge.
"Yes, I have," I lie, my eyes locked on his.
"Then why are you so nervous?"
He moves closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I take a step back, but he follows, crowding me against the wall. His eyes are intense as he leans in, his lips just inches from mine.
"I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous? We’re friends," I manage to whisper, my heart quickening with both fear and desire. He pauses, his gaze flickering.
"Yeah," he says, finally taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. "Of course we are . . . Friends ."
I let out a breath and try to steady myself, the tension between us almost unbearable.
We stare at each other for a few more heartbeats before he breaks the connection. "I’m gonna go brush my teeth."
I watch as Lucas walks away, his shirtless figure disappearing into the bathroom. My mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. We're friends, and that’s for the best, but at the same time, my body aches with desire for him. I bite my lip as I sink into the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets against my skin. My body is still buzzing with the memory of his proximity, the heat of his breath against my ear. I try to push the thoughts out of my head but my whole body keeps buzzing for his touch.
No, it can’t happen. I’m not putting myself in a situation where I can get rejected. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that.
I grab a few of the throw pillows and set up a wall between my side and his. Nobody is touching anyone tonight.
As long as he stays on his side, I think we’ll be good.
A few minutes later, Lucas emerges from the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants, looking refreshed and ready for bed. He approaches his side of the bed, and there’s a subtle tug at the corner of his lips, a bemused curiosity in his eyes. "What's with the barricade?"
"Oh, uh, nothing. I just thought it would be more comfortable this way," I stammer, trying to come up with a convincing excuse that isn’t " to keep me from straddling you." Because that is not what you say to your friends.
"I just don't want to accidentally invade your personal space while we sleep."
Lucas just shakes his head. "Sure, Leora. Whatever you say." He takes his place on his side of the bed, making no move to cross the pillow barrier.
"Goodnight, Leora."
"Goodnight, Lucas."
We settle into our respective sides, but my mind is still racing with thoughts of him. I try to push the thoughts out of my head, telling myself that it's better to just stay friends. But the more I try to ignore the feelings, the stronger they become. His scent, his warmth, his touch—everything about him is driving me insane. My body is yearning for his touch, but at the same time, I know it's not a good idea to act on it.
I try to calm my racing heart. Maybe if I just focus on getting some sleep, these feelings will fade away and I’ll wake up fresh tomorrow. I close my eyes and try to drift off, but I can still feel his presence beside me, and I know that it's going to be a long night.