Chapter 11
I’ll never forget the things you said to me. Not because they mattered, but because they made me feel like I did.
—Unknown
Fable
Drew made good on his promise. From the moment we agreed we’d pretend for a little while that we’re just two normal people in a new relationship, that’s exactly how he’s treated me. No mention of my mom, his dad, Adele, our problems, our past. Nothing.
We’ve spent the last twenty-four hours together doing nothing but talking. And kissing. Lots and lots of dreamy, long, and delicious kissing. Which of course leads to touching, and then that leads to sex.
Lots and lots of sex.
We haven’t left his apartment since he came to pick me up. I called to check on Owen and made sure he was okay. Again, he was at Wade’s. He asked if I was with Drew and I told him yes.
He proceeded to both cheer me on and warn me. Owen loves the idea of me being with a football player. He hates the idea of me being with a guy who broke my heart.
He’s conflicted—we all feel that way, I think.
But I pushed the conflict aside and focused on the positive. Drew with me. Over me. Inside me. Whispering hot words in my ear when he pulls me in close. How he touches me so reverently, the way he holds me when we sleep. Not that there’s been much sleep going on …
I was able to trade out my shift today so I could spend one more full day with Drew, but tomorrow, reality waits. He has to go to class. I have to spend time with Owen before I go to work. Drew has to meet with his shrink.
Sometimes, I really hate reality.
Being with him constantly like this, I can’t concentrate.
Since he’s walked so completely back into my life, I’ve been in a constant state of arousal I can’t control.
I have never been so … needy. I look at him and he’s all I can think about.
Funny how I believed for a fleeting moment that I was interested in Colin.
The way I feel for Drew can’t compare to any glimmer of attraction I’d had for Colin.
We’re at a restaurant now, Drew and I. He ran out of food in his apartment and we were starving, so we finally made our escape. Plus, I thought it might be good to be out in public like real people versus naked and rolling around in his bed all day and night.
Staring at him from across the table, I realize pretty quickly that being out in public like real people is totally overrated.
“What do you want to order?” His head is bent, his dark hair tumbling over his forehead as he peruses the menu. I wonder when he last got a haircut. I like it long. It’s easier for me to run my fingers through and grip when I kiss him.
“I don’t know.” I sound breathless, I feel breathless, but he doesn’t notice.
He props his elbow on the table, absently scratches his temple with his index finger, and I remember exactly what that index finger did to me earlier.
How he circled my nipples with that finger, how he slipped it between my legs, drenched it with my wetness, and then brought it up to his mouth, licking it, tasting me, his gaze never leaving mine …
I’m squirming in my seat like some sort of horny freak. And the man is clueless.
“I thought you said you were hungry.” He glances up, his gaze catching mine. “What are you in the mood for?”
You, I want to tell him, but jeez. I had him not even an hour ago. What’s wrong with me? I go without Drew for a couple of months and now I act like I need him every minute of every day.
“I don’t know.” I open the menu to check out my options. I’ve never eaten at this restaurant. It’s close to Drew’s apartment and I’m rarely in this part of town. “What’s good here?”
“Fable.” His deep, quiet voice makes me glance up and I find him watching me, his dark brows drawn, a little frown curving his mouth. “Are you okay?”
He’s got both elbows propped on the table now, his hands clasped together, and I want those hands on me.
His black long-sleeve shirt clings to his arms, accentuating his bulging biceps, those broad shoulders, that wide chest. I’ve explored every inch of his body the last few days and it’s still not enough. I can’t believe he’s really mine.
And I can’t believe I’m his.
“I’m not very hungry,” I admit.
His frown deepens. “You’re the one who wanted to come here.”
I shrug, feeling silly, my gaze locked on his hands.
They are so big. Long fingers, wide palms, a little rough, a little smooth.
I love how they touch me, sometimes gentle, sometimes with force.
I like it best when he wraps my hair around his fingers and tugs.
Oh God, I really love it when he does that …
I want those hands on me. Now. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.” My stomach is fluttering with nerves. I don’t want to eat. I want Drew. I feel sort of crazed with it. Like I need to have him as much as possible before he slips through my fingers and I lose him forever.
But I’m not going to lose him. We’re in this together. I need to remember that—and believe it.
“You’re being weird.” Worry fills his eyes. “Are you mad? Did I do something?”
Just his breathing—that does it for me. “I’m not mad. I’m, um …” I let my voice trail off, feeling like an idiot.
“You’re what?”
“I’m looking at your hands,” I admit with a little sigh. Can I admit out loud that I’m horny? That would sound ridiculous.
Those dark brows shoot up practically to his hairline. “Why?”
My cheeks are hot. I squirm in my seat again. “I’m … remembering what they did to me earlier.”
The frown is gone, replaced with a wicked smile that sends my body temperature skyrocketing. He leans across the table, his voice so low it vibrates through me and settles between my legs. “Maybe we should go back to my place so I can do that to you all over again.”
Oh my God, that sounds like the best idea ever. “Maybe we should.”
The smile never leaves his face. In fact, it grows bigger. My quiet, hesitant Drew has morphed into some sort of cocky sex god. “You don’t want to order anything?”
I slowly shake my head. “Can’t we just get pizza again? Later?” We had it last night, too. “From somewhere different this time. You know, just to mix it up. Or maybe Chinese? I love Chinese.”
He laughs, the sound husky. “You said you wanted to get out of the house for a while because you worried we were becoming addicted to each other.”
“Is that what I said?” I honestly can’t remember. What’s wrong with being addicted to each other? Aren’t we still in this pretend mode where we’re normal people who like to have sex without hangups or issues? I wonder if Drew has ever had sex like this. Carefree and so … normal.
“Yep.” He nods.
“Maybe I like being addicted to you,” I admit softly. We haven’t said we loved each other yet. I can’t work up the nerve. Maybe he can’t either. Silly, considering how consumed with love I am for him. He is just … amazing. Sweet. Attentive. Funny. Smart. Sexy.
I understand him. He understands me. We’re perfect for each other.
Maybe we’re too perfect together. Too perfect doesn’t really exist. This could all be a facade. Just like our week together over the Thanksgiving break.
That week felt fake, though. Surreal. There were real, grounding moments, but for the most part, we were caught up in an act.
Maybe we’re pretending right now, too, but I’m trying to be as real as I can with him.
Without the baggage and the heartache and the trouble hanging over us. For at least a little while.
It’ll all come crashing down upon us soon. That’s a reality I don’t want to face quite yet.
He reaches across the table for my hands and takes them in his. “I really like being addicted to you.”
The smile I send his way is so big it hurts my cheeks. We are so in this addiction together.
For once, I know I’m not alone.
“Let’s go home and play true confessions,” I suggest because I’m feeling silly. “Nothing heavy, though. We can keep it light and easy.”
“True confessions? I’m intrigued.”
“You should be,” I say coyly. “It’s going to be a sexual true confessions.”
He stiffens the slightest bit and I squeeze his hands in my grip. We need to be open with each other and while the sexual connection we have is amazing, I know sometimes he holds himself back. I understand why. Sort of.
That’s where we’re complete opposites. I was the type who gave it away just so I could feel something, anything, for a little while. He’d rather box himself up and feel absolutely nothing.
“Fable …” His voice trails off and his smile fades. “I don’t know if I’m up to that yet.”
“It won’t be anything crazy, I promise.” I lean over our linked hands and bring them to my mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “No pressure. Just fun.”
“Just fun?” He brushes his thumb over the top of my hand and my entire body reacts.
“Always fun,” I whisper.
Drew
I’m curious where Fable thinks she’s taking this true confessions game she mentioned. Curious enough to agree to leave the restaurant without ordering, earning a strange look from the waitress when we do.
Feeling a little nervous, too, since I’m not the most comfortable when it comes to talking about sex.
Fable is the first girl I’ve ever really wanted.
I’ve been forever damaged by what happened with Adele.
I’ve had sex since then, but it was always quick.
Meaningless. Never with the same girl twice.
After a while, it became too complicated. So I avoided girls. It was easier that way.
Our agreement to pretend to be normal has given me some freedom. I’m able to let go—at least temporarily—of some of the issues that constantly plague me and enjoy my time with Fable. We hardly leave my bed. We’ve remained naked pretty much the entire time.
It’s also been pretty fucking incredible.
“Let’s play strip true confessions,” she suggests as we enter my apartment. The chipper sound of her voice makes me burst out laughing.
“Strip true confessions?” I scratch my head as I shut and lock the door.