“How can you be so sure of that?”
“I know the two men, Sol. And Martin knows me well too. He doesn’t expect me to remain by your side to the end. He’s scared as hell, feeling threatened by us, and he’s making his last desperate move to get you to give up before the finish line. So, this is how we win—we stay the course.”
I bite my lip harder. Erik opens my mouth with his thumb to stop me from hurting myself, but the gesture is so sexy I almost pull him toward my lips.
“So, we keep lying?”
“Until the end.”
His eyes are serene, assertive. I think of what Chiara said.
“But it’s not right...”
“Backing away won’t do any good now. You’ll just be delivering the victory to Martin. Do you want that to happen?”
I shake my head.
“Let’s kick his ass tomorrow. Let’s show them who is not a couple.” He gives me a sly smile, and I almost, almost grab his neck and kiss him.
The thought of faking it with him tomorrow is so exciting I decide I can wait. My lust—or at least part of it—will be satisfied in a safe environment.
For once, I have the feeling that he is looking forward to it too.
“How about a movie night? I guess you can’t focus on the project today.”
Erik mentioning the project gets my heart racing even faster. He does want to keep working on the app with me after all. I feel like singing.
“A movie night sounds great,” I say.
We make popcorn and sandwiches and sit on his couch. I let him choose the movie, and he picks Pulp Fiction. It’s his favorite Tarantino movie, the one he says I must watch because of its memorable performances. He puts an arm around me, and I lean on his chest.
It’s such a surreal moment. I never imagined we’d reach this level of intimacy. I can hear his heart. My head moves up and down to the rhythm of his steady breathing. His sweatshirt is thick, but I feel his hard muscles under my fingers. His scent is right under my nose, rising directly from his skin. His rough beard is touching the top of my head, scratchy. Irresistible.
It’s very hard to stay still, but at the same time, snuggling here is so pleasurable that I close my eyes to enjoy the sensations. I couldn’t care less about the movie. It’s just an excuse to enjoy him. The darkness in the room makes my reaction easier to conceal—my flushed face, my gaze sneaking around his body, discreetly taking in every curve.
I can’t hide the irregular pace of my breathing though, and he can’t hide his heartbeat. For a lot of the movie, it’s accelerated like mine.
I could stay in this cuddling position forever. It’s the warmth and safety I needed after such a tough day. But it’s getting hard not to feel lustful.
As the movie nears its end, I move my hands slowly on his chest, with just my fingertips. I wait for a reaction, for him to move my hand away and get up, but he remains still. I watch him and he doesn’t take his eyes off the TV, acting as if nothing is happening. His Adam’s apple bobs though, and his muscles tense.
This might not be an invitation to continue, but I do. My hand rises, tempting him near the V-neck of his sweatshirt. When my fingertips make contact with his skin, I feel him shudder. He turns to me and we stare at each other in silence for what feels like endless seconds. I don’t know if I should go on or not. His serious face could mean he’s controlling himself so he doesn’t throw me off his couch or so he doesn’t pull me toward his lips.
A thousand pictures flash in front of my eyes, all of them involving us naked on this couch. We are both breathing hard, and I notice that’s not the only hard thing he is dealing with. I look at the erection in his pants, and my hand begins to slide down into them, but Erik shakes his head in a brief, decisive way.
He swallows visibly and puts his hand over mine, stopping it just above the waistband of his jeans. His eyes are soft and restless—not the eyes of someone telling me no but instead saying, Not today. I want him so bad. But I respect his decision. I admire his control, and yet the insecure part of me wonders if I will ever be irresistible to him.
His fingers caress the back of my hand and rise up my arm, teasing me in a way that heats me between my legs, readying me for something that won’t happen. His hand comes to rest on my face, and he strokes my cheek briefly before putting my hair behind my ear. I tilt my head back to look into his eyes.
“It was a long day, Sol.” His voice sounds so hoarse and unsteady, it gives me chills. “Perhaps we should go to bed.”
You in yours, me in mine, is what he’s saying.
I nod, trying to put out my fire. I feel embarrassed. Rejected. Inappropriate.
He lifts my face when I look down. “Okay?” The word means a myriad of things in this context.
His eyes glint with repressed lust. He wants to know if I’m fine. He wants me to be all right after the blows I received today, and he doesn’t believe us having sex will help. On the contrary.
And he is right.
I nod again, controlling my eyes so they won’t start pooling. I love him for stopping me. For not letting his dick make a life-changing decision for both of us.
Because we are still roommates, and I don’t want that to change.
He knows very well what happens when we cross that line. And I’m not going to be his second Lena.
I bring my hand to his face and caress him like he did me, then tuck his hair behind his ear.
“Godnat, Erik,” I say and rise from his couch.
The credits are rolling, and as I turn to walk out of his room, I realize we didn’t technically cross the line.
But, in fact, we already did.
Twenty
It’s a cold and cloudy Saturday morning, and I’m quietly eating toast at the table when Erik sits next to me, full of energy. He crosses his arms over his chest with the smile of a clever programmer who has just had a brilliant idea.
