Eros: Are you playing hooky, Ms. Sierra?
Liv: Sort of. I’m bringing some work with me.
Eros: I’ll cook for you.
Liv: I don’t have much in my fridge.
Eros: You do now.
Liv: That’s music to my ears. See you soon.
When I enter my place, I yell, “Honey, I’m home.”
“Lunch should be ready soon,” he answers. “Get comfortable.”
“I have work to do.”
“You can do it afterward,” he argues. “I promise to make it good for you.”
“Promises, promises,” I joke, heading to my room. When I pass the kitchen, I spot his shirtless back. Okay, I can take an extended break to see what this guy has planned for us. Since we’re not going out, I put on a long cotton dress.
“What are you making?”
“Hey, beautiful,” he greets me when I enter the kitchen. His lips brush against mine. I draw a deep inhale. We move toward each other, colliding. He pushes me against the wall, and I grab his bare shoulders. He crushes his lips to mine. It’s a sizzling kiss. Deep. Passionate. Mad. I don’t hold back. I never do with him. With us it’s no longer just a kiss. It’s a body and soul experience that pushes us to a different dimension.
He stops us.
“As much as I’d love to continue, we have to eat first.”
I pout. “Since when does that matter?”
“You like your cheese sandwiches gooey,” he answers, kissing my jaw. “I promise to make it up to you.”
I graze his stubbly chin with my hand. “You’re letting this grow?”
“You don’t like my beard?”
“It’s different.”
“I usually let it grow while I’m in Costa Rica. When I go back to Colorado, I shave the hipster away from my face. That’s what Persy and Nyx call it,” he explains, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the kitchen table.
“You already set the table,” I say, impressed.
“After looking at your empty fridge, I assumed that you don’t have many homemade meals,” he says. “At least while I’m here, I plan to feed you.”
“I might keep you longer than you intend to stay,” I joke. “So, what have you been up to?”
“I visited Isaac.” He clears his throat. “Whose actual name is Zack. I misunderstood his name. They married last November. It was a small ceremony with only friends and family. When I asked him why she didn’t invite us…”
He takes a long deep breath, then he looks at me. “Our parents dragged us with them everywhere, but when Callie was born, they left her with our grandparents,” he explains. “She didn’t join us until she was much older. I never gave that a second thought. Except, it always made her feel like she wasn’t really part of us. Nyx, Persy, and I are a tight unit. She’s an outsider. Even though she loved our parents, she was ashamed of them. Inviting them was out of the question.”
I clasp his hands.
“She never gave us a chance to be a part of her life.” He squeezes his eyes. “We should’ve tried harder, and now it’s too late. I can’t even blame myself for not keeping an eye on her. She never allowed it. She always said, ‘I’m not Nyx or Persy. Leave me alone.’”
“I wish I knew what to say.”
He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Honestly, I don’t need words. All I need now is to feel something other than pain.”
This is something I know well. He’s helped me forget and feel better twice. I sit on his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him. I grind against his lap. His hand goes under the fabric of my dress. Moving aside my underwear, his finger touches my clit. One slides inside of me as his thumb works my clit.
“What happened to eat first, then play?”
“I’m thinking that I’ll eat you first,” he says, setting me on top of the table. “Lace panties. They’re cute.”
He slides them off and shoves them inside his jeans pocket. His mouth hovers right above the apex of my thighs. I forgot how good he is with his mouth and his fingers. In less than twenty-four hours, he has reminded me how good it is to have sex—with him.
It doesn’t take long for me to cry his name and quiver. I hear the sound of a zipper opening. A moment later, he rams himself inside me. My legs are over his shoulders as he drives himself harder, rougher inside me. I love this side of Eros. His dark eyes glare at me with hunger.
There are never words when we’re like this, together. Just lust and passion. Today I want to say, “I’m here for you. Take what you need. Let me heal your heart and your soul.”
I bite my lip, muting the words. It’ll be one of many unsaid phrases, sentences, and words between us. I keep them to myself, guarding them with my life.
There’s no point in telling him anything. We’re from two different worlds. We live separate lives. I have to be practical. I have to safeguard my heart.
As we both reach the peak and begin to shudder, he pulls me toward him and holds me tight. So tight that we become one person. We share one heartbeat, one breath, and one body. The irrational-romantic part of my brain wants to stay like this for a long time. The rational part of my brain knows I need to move. This is too comfortable. I can fall into an abyss.
No one will notice my absence. I’ll be lost forever.
If only life was fair and we could happen. Maybe in another life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Olivia
Eros stays a couple of weeks in Boston. He spends his mornings hanging out with Zack, who owns a coffee shop. He’s getting some kind of closure while trying to understand who Callie was. They’re becoming friends. On Sunday, the words I’ve been dreading to hear since Eros arrived are finally spoken. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
We’re in bed. This is the first Sunday I’ve taken off in a long time. I move on top of him and begin to rock my body back and forth.
“You think this is on-demand?” He smirks. “It’s hard to keep up with you. No pun intended.”
I giggle. “So, where are you going?”
“My first stop is to Colorado,” he answers, giving me a sad smile. “Afterward, I’ll go back to Costa Rica. I’m going to extend my trip for a month or two.”
His penetrating gaze holds mine. I wish he didn’t look at me like this. Like he could love me. Like I could be someone important to him. Like we could be something. Because I know we’ll never be.
“Come with me,” he offers.
“I will,” I joke, reaching for his hardness and slipping it inside me. “After I ride you.”
“Liv.” He holds me in place. “I’m serious. Why don’t you pack and come with me?”
Leaning closer to him, I whisper in his ear, “In another life.”
While we lazily move our hips, I wonder if there’s another dimension where we end up together or where we never meet. Maybe this friendship is beginning to get complicated for us, or just for me.
“Stop thinking, Liv,” he orders.
He hates when I think while we’re together. What would he say if he found out what I think of while we’re together? He might laugh and call me a fool—a silly woman who still thinks like a girl.