“I thought about you all night,” I tell her as I work myself in and out, watching her face with each thrust.
“You did?” she questions, like I might not be telling the truth.
“All”—I thrust in— “fucking”—another thrust— “night.”
“I’ve thought about you all week,” she admits.
“I didn’t realize this was a competition.” I keep working inside of her, knowing I won’t last too long. “I’ve thought about you since the moment I met you.”
Feeling victorious, knowing she can’t top that, I grip under her thighs and start to fuck her in quick, hard drives.
“I thought about you before I even knew you,” she yells as she comes all over my dick, pushing me over the edge with her.
Our lips are a fraction of an inch away from one another as we both breathe quickly, still coming down from it all.
“You always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
She smiles, then brings her lips to mine. A soft, gentle touch that sends shivers down my spine. “That’s what you love about me.”
I do love you.
The words repeat in my head several times. It’s like there’s something inside of me, telling me to say it, but the words are caught in my throat.
I can’t say it. I’m paralyzed in fear.
I put her down slowly, wondering if she is even aware of the war waging inside of me from what was supposed to be a joke.
“I should go clean up,” I mumble. “Be right back.”
I try my best to gather myself as I clean myself off. I place my hands on the counter and look at my reflection.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask bitterly at the man looking back at me.
Too bad he’s a total fuckup and he can’t answer back. All I see is someone unning from the man he fears that he is— who has it in him to ruin his family twenty years from now all because he’s weak.
I shake my head and turn around, done looking at the sorry excuse for the man in the mirror.
I might not be able to offer her those words tonight, but I’m also not going to ruin everything and leave.
Maybe I’ll take it one step at a time. I don’t know what that step will be. I don’t ever spend the night with someone, but we’ve already done that. I can cook her breakfast.
Wait. Is that weird to do at her place?
Fuck, I’m so bad at this. She should get out while she has the chance.
I open the door, and she’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, waiting for me.
“Are you done freaking out in there?” she asks directly.
Well, I forgot who I was dealing with.
I run a hand through my hair. “Eva, I’m sorry.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like?—”
“I know. I know. It’s not what you think.”
Her eyebrows rise, her doubts evident. “Really? Because I think you freaked out, thinking I was insinuating that you loved me.”