Chapter 22
The hall wasn’t that long, but the walk from the office to the door at the end seemed like an eternity with my heart thumping heavy in my chest and my skin reacting to every stimulus, even the air, it seemed.
I have self-control , I reminded myself once more. Unless he didn’t want me to have it. No. I had not come here to ravage Oliver. We were getting to know each other. I had come here to make a website.
The hall was dark. Had it always been this dark?
It would be perfect for the photo, but right now my mind didn’t need any more excuses to think what it wanted to think.
I looked around for a light switch, but we were already to the door.
Standing outside of it. He paused as if he understood the story element of a dramatic reveal.
He grabbed hold of the handle and leaned his right shoulder into the door.
I was next to him, waiting. When nothing happened, I looked up at him.
He smiled. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“It honestly wasn’t that hard,” I said. My voice was silkier than I meant for it to be.
He held my stare as if daring me to do something. I broke eye contact first. He opened the door and flipped on the light.
“My sister would love you,” I breathed out as I took in the room.
The bed had a dark wood headboard. Around that, thin strips of wood formed geometric shapes that were then painted the same color as the wall.
The bedding was rich in both color and material.
A double row of pillows leaned against the headboard.
“She does interior design?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “This is why you agreed. You knew you had the perfect bed for this. It’s even framed perfectly by the door.”
A smile crept onto his face. “It is rather perfect.”
“It needs to be messy, though,” I said. “Like two people just rolled around in it.” I approached the bed and climbed on.
If I thought his house smelled good, his bed enveloped me in a scent that was both him and somehow more as I crawled across it.
I flung myself onto his pillows on my back, arms stretched wide.
My socked feet pedaled up and down. It was in that moment that my brain caught up with me: I had just climbed onto his bed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pointing to the bed. “May I?”
He laughed. “Pretty sure you already did.”
I propped myself up on my elbows to see that he’d positioned himself at the foot of the bed. “Want to help me mess this up?”
“Margot, I…”
“With all our clothes on, friend . Where did your mind go?”
“You’re in my bed. You know where it went.”
The air was sucked from my lungs as my heart raced to life. He was having impure thoughts as well. That meant this whole “slow down” thing was hard for him too.
I cleared my throat. “I just meant mess it up with your hands. Like this…” I moved to my knees and peeled back his comforter. “I’m guessing you have hotel corners and everything under here.”
He stretched over and tugged at one of the bottom corners, freeing it. I used the opportunity to grab hold of the edge of the blanket and roll myself up like a burrito.
“Is that how you do things in bed?” he asked.
My elbows were pinned to my sides, my hands holding the top of the blanket under my chin. “This isn’t how you do things in bed?” If I kept rolling, I’d deposit myself onto the ground. But just as I went to unroll myself, he rounded the bed and sat down, blocking me in.
“Are you stuck?” he asked in a fake innocent voice.
“You know I am.”
He lifted his hands like he was going to free me, then paused and asked, “Are you ticklish?”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Is that a yes or a no?” His hands moved along my sides.
I squealed and made several empty threats about taking him down.
He stopped and brushed a piece of hair off my forehead.
Then he studied my face. I wasn’t sure what he saw there, but he met my eyes with an intensity I’d seen before.
An ache settled between my legs and I swallowed hard.
Then, as if I were made of fire, he yanked his hand away and stood.
“We’d better get some pictures. It’s getting late. ”
I nodded but didn’t move. The thought of him stretched out beside me, pressed up against me, flashed through my mind. We could keep all our clothes on, I just wanted to lay here in his arms, in his scent, in his life.
“Are you still stuck?” he asked. “Do I need to unroll you?”
I avoided his gaze, worried he’d be able to read all my thoughts. Or maybe I was worried he wouldn’t be able to. “Yes, please,” I said, even though I didn’t need his help. I just knew this might be the only opportunity to feel his hands on me again.
He leaned over, grabbed me by the waist, and pulled. I flopped onto my stomach with an unflattering “Oof.”
He chuckled, then flipped me again. I was able to free my arms and sit up. He took in the bed as I climbed out of it.
“Huh,” he said. “I mocked you for the execution but that actually worked. It looks like two people used this bed.”
I laughed, then whispered, “Has it been awhile since it’s seen that much action?”
I had been joking, but he said, “Yes, actually.”
And because I was nosy, I asked, “Why?”
“Like I said before, I’m kind of over meaningless hookups. I want more.”
I nodded.
“And you?” he asked. “Does your bed have stories to tell?”
“I wish it had more because that would mean that my weakness for the past couple years wasn’t someone who was completely wrong for me.”
“He never went home with you?”
I swallowed. Let him in , Sloane had said.
It was hard when I’d been keeping this part of my life a secret from most people for so long.
When I felt so ashamed about it. “No,” I said.
“That might’ve meant we were committed, and he would never admit to that.
” I picked at a hangnail on my thumb. “We snuck out of town occasionally like the secret that I was. And I constantly had to lie to my family about where I was going and who I was going with. And then when we got home, it was like it never happened. He usually started ignoring me, until I made him see me again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his hand brushing along my arm.
“Me too,” I said.
“I know it’s not the same, but both times I was cheated on, it was the secrets that hurt the most. The person you thought you cared about lying to you. I get lies and secrets. They hurt.”
My throat felt tight. My family was still in the dark about Rob, obviously. I had decided it was pointless to tell them now that it was over. But maybe that meant I was a horrible person.
“And I get feeling unseen,” he said as his other hand brushed along my other arm until both my hands were in his. “It’s a lonely place to be.”
I nodded.
“Maybe we both have trust issues.”
“We’re not supposed to touch,” I said softly.
“Friends touch,” he returned.
I closed my eyes and listened to our breathing sync up. In and out.
“You can trust me, Margot. I see you,” he said.
“I think you might. Three years ago, in your car, I would’ve sworn you had been handed a study guide on my body. It was impressive.”
“You know what my study guide was?”
My hands felt weightless in his grip. “No, what?”
“You. The way you moved against me when I hit the right spot, the noises you made when my mouth was on you. And that was in a car, Margot.”
A slow fire had started in my belly with his words and was slowly expanding through all my limbs. “I know. Imagine how much better it would be here, where we have full access to each other.”
“I have,” he said.
I bit my bottom lip trying to tamp down my desire. “Is this how you talk to all your friends?” I said, mimicking what he’d asked me earlier.
“Yes, all of them,” he said, copying me.
We stayed that way for several minutes, holding hands, perfectly still, not looking at each other, just breathing.
Then with the slightest tug, he pulled me forward, into his arms. “We already established that friends hug, right?” he asked.
“Yes.” My hands wrapped around him to his back, where they moved up and down it. “I am also known to rub my friends’ backs.”
He gave a breathy laugh. “Such a good friend.” His feather-soft touch traveled from my back to my waist, where he grabbed hold of me.
I thought he was going to separate us, be the first to say uncle , but he didn’t, he pressed me even closer to him.
So close I could feel just how much he didn’t want to let go.
I sucked in some air as all the little hairs along my arms and up to the back of my neck stood on end.
My hands paused in their exploration of his broad back and, finally, I looked up and met his eyes.
His darted back and forth between mine, probably looking for hesitancy. He wouldn’t find it. My entire body ached for him.
I wasn’t sure who closed the distance, just that our lips collided with such force that it was both painful and exhilarating at once.