Chapter Seventeen Alex
“The pizza will be here in thirty minutes,” I tell Euan as he returns from the guest room.
I’m already settled on the couch, remote in hand, ready to find a movie to watch.
As he walks over, I realize we didn’t discuss how we would spend the rest of the afternoon.
Does he have work he needs to finish? Or maybe he wants some time alone after spending all day with me today. And yesterday.
“Find something to watch?” he asks, sitting on the other end of the couch. The distance between us is measured with a single cushion. Yesterday, we were on the hotel bed together with the same amount of space between us, but for some reason he feels so much farther away today.
I’d only been mindlessly scrolling while he was away, so I return my focus to the TV.
I’ve naturally paused on a movie in the horror section that I’ve seen a dozen times.
My favorite kind of bad horror movie, but I haven’t watched it in over a year.
“Have you seen this before?” If he says yes, it won’t be as fun to watch his reactions.
Euan glances at the title and shakes his head. “I also haven’t seen the first one.”
“It’s not a sequel,” I explain as I click play. “The ‘two’ is just part of the title.”
His brow furrows in confusion. An emotion he’s about to experience often during this bonkers movie.
I grin and settle into the couch, ready to watch Euan more than the movie.
Euan sits forward on the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the screen. “When do the trolls come in?”
“There are no trolls in this movie,” I explain, barely able to get the words out through my laughter.
Euan barely takes his eyes off the movie long enough to give me a baffled look. “But they’re in the title.”
“It’s because—” the buzzer goes off, alerting me to the delivery driver’s arrival. “Oh, the pizza! I’ll go grab it.”
Without me asking, Euan picks up the remote and pauses the movie. I’ve seen it enough times that I know what happens next, but I still appreciate the gesture. I don’t want to miss a single one of his reactions or expressions as the movie continues.
A few minutes later, I return to the apartment, balancing an extra-large box of the best pizza in town. Euan is already at the apartment door, holding it open for me. I set the pizza on the coffee table and call over my shoulder, “Can you grab some paper towels?”
Euan returns with the whole roll. Probably smart. The butter sauce is delicious, but it’s thinner than the normal sauce and makes for a messier pizza slice.
We both settle on the couch, and I flip the top of the box open, revealing the pizza inside. Going with an extra-large was a gamble—what if he doesn’t like it?—but this is basically lunch and dinner, so I wanted to make sure there was enough.
Euan reaches for a slice, holding one hand underneath as he carefully brings it to his mouth. I watch the whole process avidly, fidgeting in anticipation. He takes a large bite, and I hold my breath as I wait for his reaction. Then his eyes close and a deep moan rumbles from his throat.
Now I’m fidgeting for a different reason as the sound sparks a hot, sudden flash of arousal.
I release my breath in a shuddering sigh and purposefully shift away from him, snatching up a slice of pizza and taking a bite to keep my mouth occupied.
The warm, flavorful sauce, the cheese, the juicy chicken is enough to give me a much safer reason to moan.
“This is the best pizza I’ve ever had,” Euan declares. “I’m going to want it every time I’m here.”
Every time. It’s the second time he’s mentioned future visits. I know it’s because of the inevitable court dates, but I can’t help picturing him coming back here for me. Staying longer than a week. Maybe a month. Maybe forever.
I shove the thought away. That’s too much, too quick.
Even with Theresa, I wasn’t thinking about ‘forever’ until we’d dated for months, and I’ve only known Euan a few days.
I’m just high on good pizza and a fun day out, playing hooky from work.
It’s enough to forget the real reason I called off today, the awkward and messy reason we’re together at all.
Euan’s knee knocks against mine. We’d both shifted toward the center of the couch to eat the pizza over the box to lessen the risk of stains. His knee stays pressed against mine, like he doesn’t even notice, but I can’t think of anything else.
After the first slice of pizza, Euan starts the movie again. There’s less laughter and commentary than before, both of our mouths otherwise occupied. The whole time, he doesn’t move his leg away from me, and I’m enjoying his presence too much to even consider moving.
Since I’ve long stopped paying attention to the movie, the loud popcorn explosions on screen startle me into almost dropping my last bite of pizza.
“What is happening right now?” Euan demands, his voice devoid of emotion, as if the scene has short-circuited his brain.
“What, you don’t burst into popcorn when you cum?” I ask with a straight face.
Euan leans back on the couch and stretches his arm over the back of it. His dark eyes lock with mine and his lips spread into a slow, mischievous smile. “You want to find out?”
I slowly let myself fall back until we’re right next to each other. The distance from before has almost disappeared, only an inch or two remaining. With some minor adjustments, we’ll be pressed together from ankle to shoulder.
Euan’s fingers dip down until they barely touch me, brushing back and forth in a light caress that slowly fuels the fire building within me.
“We’ve been dancing around the topic all day.
” His low, intimate voice encourages me to lean closer to him, until even those scant inches disappear, our arms and thighs pressed together.
It’s not nearly enough.
“We shouldn’t,” I say, like some na?ve heroine out of a romance novel. “We’re married.”
Euan laughs, lightening the mood a little, somehow clearing the haze of desire from my mind.
“You know what I mean,” I grumble good-naturedly.
“I do,” he agrees. “Sex would definitely complicate things. I just think it’s a shame.”
I arch both eyebrows at him. “That we can’t fuck?”
He raises his other hand to cup my jaw, running his thumb over my cheekbone. “That I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you, but because of one drunken impulse, I can’t really have you.”
My breath catches in my throat. I want to lean into his hand, to press a kiss against his palm, to take his fingers into my mouth and lick the salt off his skin. “You just wanted a one-night stand,” I argue, though my voice is faint, strained, unconvincing.
He gazes at me, an odd look in his eyes I can’t interpret. “Maybe.”
The admission doesn’t cool my ardor the way I hoped it would. I lick my lips, watch his eyes darken. “Maybe that means … if we do it once, we’ll get it out of our system. You won’t be interested in me anymore.”
His thumb continues gently caressing my cheek, back and forth as steadily as a metronome. Eventually, he smiles and gives a self-deprecating laugh. “I doubt that.”
Before my brain fully processes what he means, he drops his hand and picks up the remote. His eyes are locked on the screen again, with less enthusiasm this time, as he rewinds to the spot that started the whole damn conversation.
I doubt that. What does he mean? That he doesn’t think once would be enough? He’s probably right though. Every touch makes me crave him more.
Neither of us return to our previous positions. We remain pressed close together, his arm stretched over the back of the couch. Not quite an embrace. Which is fine, since this is not quite a relationship.
The movie ends with the cliched ‘it’s not over’ hints of every horror movie hoping to get enough attention for a sequel. I glance at Euan to find he’s already looking at me. I mean to ask him what he wants to watch next, but the words tumble out as, “What do you want to do next?”
And my eyes drop to his lips.
It’s not fair that I only got to kiss him when I was drunk. I barely remember it. Shouldn’t I at least remember the kiss that landed us in this mess in the first place?
“Alex?” The way he says my name is curious and maybe a little bit hopeful.
My eyes snap back to his and it takes effort to swallow the lump in my throat. “Maybe just a kiss.”
“Just a kiss,” he repeats, dragging his fingers along my back, eliciting a deep shudder. “Only if you really want to, though.”
“I want to.” I barely get the words out before surging forward, grabbing his face with both hands to hold him steady while I crush my lips against his.
He falls backwards, thumping against the couch, and his hands tighten around me, bringing me down with him.
I sprawl across his broad chest, one of my knees firmly planted on the cushion between his thighs, the other almost falling off the couch but I don’t even care.
His lips are firm and pliant while his beard is soft and scratchy and ticklish all at the same time.
I only have a moment to catalog the sensations before he opens his mouth and slips his tongue between my lips.
I may have started the kiss, but he’s the one who takes control of it, guiding our tongues into a twisted, tangled dance.
We only part for the occasional heaving breath, lips wet and glossy from saliva, before we find each other again.
It doesn’t go further than a kiss, even though I can feel the bulge of his arousal hot and hard against my knee while my own erection aches to be touched.
I raise my hips, trying to resist the desperate urge to rut against his leg.
The longer the kiss lasts, the more my muscles strain from holding this position, as if all my body wants to do is collapse on top of him, to find as much connection as possible while we’re still clothed.
We are so fucked. ‘Just a kiss’ clearly isn’t enough for either of us. My hands itch to tear off both of our clothes, to touch him skin to skin, to enjoy as much of each other as possible with what little time we have.
My fingertips creep up under his T-shirt, brushing against his tight, taut stomach.
At some point, his hand has done the same and is now splayed against my back.
If we could stop kissing long enough to speak, I’d tell him: I changed my mind.
Give me everything. But god, even that seems like too much distance.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I barely register the noise long enough to pull my lips away from Euan. His are red and puffy and I imagine mine aren’t any better. From the tingling on my face, I’ve probably got a hell of a beard burn. As I stare at his kiss-swollen lips, I don’t even remember what distracted us.
I’m leaning in to kiss him again when a voice calls out. “Alex? Are you home?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but not before I see the mix of disappointment and irritation flash across Euan’s face.
“Why is Theresa here?”