18. Georgia
It’s quiet—too quiet.
Derek and I walk in complete silence, hand in hand, as I lead him up to the apartment. He hadn’t spoken a word in the car, which is normal, seeing as he isn’t a chatterbox. But what wasn’t normal was the way he didn’t look at me once.
I know that we’re just friends, but I can’t shake the small feeling of rejection creeping in at the thought of him being unable to look at me.
It could be my silly little insecurities or the painstakingly obvious answer—he’s over our situation and wants nothing to do with me. I’m too much, too hard to deal with.
Maybe he wants to cut ties and end this marriage right here—
“I’ll get you some water…” he says lowly as he unlocks the front door, holding it open for me.
Quietly stalking inside behind him, I grab his hand.
The feeling of his large palm engulfing mine ignites a flame of hope in me.
He isn’t pulling away.
Derek’s deep brown eyes are inquisitive as they look down at me, peering into my soul.
I open myself up, allowing him in. My eyes search his face, landing on the small cut on his lip and the one under his eye.
Without words, I pull him toward our shared bathroom.
He doesn’t argue with me as I guide him to take a seat on the toilet, nor does he speak when I pull out the first aid kit. Instead, he watches.
I feel his intense stare on my back as I gather what I need from the kit, placing them all on the counter before turning back to him.
With his busted lip and now red under eye, Derek still looks like the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I have to take a deep breath and ready myself to clean his cuts and bruises, knowing that if I don’t—I’d be putty on the ground.
Taking a step toward him, I stand in the space between his legs and purse my lips.
The other guy looked worse for wear, but this cut will definitely leave a mark.
“Hold still, yeah? This may burn…” I whisper as he looks up at me, and my breath hitches when our eyes connect.
Gulping, I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth and softly grab his chin.
“Make me all better, doc,” he says gruffly as he adjusts himself, placing a hand on the back of my thigh an inch from my ass.
I grab the alcohol pad and dab it against his lip without warning. “I wouldn’t have to patch you up if you didn’t get into a fight, y’know.”
Derek winces, his other hand coming to the small of my back, pulling me in close as the hand on my thigh tightens. He’s silent for a moment before my breath is taken away. He pulls me onto his lap, adjusting my body so I’m sitting horizontally on him. I gasp as he tightens his grip around me.
“I wanted to make sure I could see your reaction when I said this.” He pauses, ever the drama king, as he leans close to my ear, the heat of his breath sending tingles down my spine. “You looked really pretty tonight—wearing my number on your back.”
My pulse races as his soft confession hits my ears, but I can’t show him that his small words have such a big effect on me.
“Aren’t I pretty all the time?”
He chuckles softly, his eyes trailing between my lips and eyes. “You’re pretty gorgeous right now, too.”
Take your clothes off.
Brain, you’ve got to stop using your clit to think, oh my goodness…
I don’t realize that it’s happening, my body moving centimeter by centimeter closer to him. Or maybe I do, and I don’t want to face the facts—I have a serious crush on my husband.
“Georgia…” he whispers, his face an inch from mine.“Derek.”
Almost there.
One more inch and we’d be touching. One more inch and our tongues would do their forbidden dance. One more inch and—
The phone rings.