Ha-ha. I know sarcasm when I hear it.
It took him a couple of minutes to reply. Sorry. Got a call. Anyway, I’m heading home. I’ll bring dinner.
My hero! I teased.
He sent back an emoji that stuck its tongue out at me, and I giggled, seriously giggled. Ugh. I hated this.
Be home soon, he added.
I went into the living room and sat on the couch, totally not waiting for Clark. It wasn’t long before I heard the key in the lock. He came in with bags of food, the scent of grease and rice in the air. “Chinese. God, I love you. Have I told you how much I love you?” I could eat Mar Far chicken and pork fried rice every day of my life and never get tired of it.
“No, but you should. I even got you extra fortune cookies. I know they’re your favorite.”
My heart did this little flip-flop that didn’t mean anything at all. “You did?”
“Of course.” He smiled. His glasses were sliding down his nose, and it might have been the cutest thing I’d ever seen. I reached out and pushed them back up for him, and Clark sucked in a sharp breath.
“Sorry.” Had I done something wrong?
“No, it’s fine. I’m just… Want some wine?” He gave me his back.
“Sure.”
He poured us glasses, and then we sat at the table to eat. I asked him how his day was, and he told me about a house he was selling, then a funny story about a rat running through a condo in the middle of a showing.
“Did you save the day, Superman?”
“Hell no. I screamed and ran. His teeth were huge! I think he wanted to nibble off my toes.”
I chuckled, imagining Clark running from a monster rat. “Well, they’re cute toes. Maybe he has a foot fetish?”
“I don’t have one, so my feet are off the market. If I see him again, I’ll send him your way.” He laughed again.
God, I enjoyed spending time with him.
“What about you?” I found myself asking.
“What about me?”
“Any fetishes?” I waggled my eyebrows at him playfully.
“What? No. You’d probably think I was boring in bed.” As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes widened. I could see he hadn’t planned to say it; the words had just come out.
“Um, no. I’ve jerked off with you a few times and kissed you once. I can promise you, there isn’t an ounce of me that thinks you’d be boring in bed. You’re like…sweet on the streets and fire in the sheets.”
He was taking a drink right as I spoke. He choked on his wine and started coughing, and I reached over and patted him on the back until he calmed down.
“We all good now?” I asked, laughing.
“Yeah, sorry. Went down the wrong pipe.” His voice was slightly huskier than usual.
I looked over to see a tear run down his face. He must have choked more than I realized. On reflex, I reached out again, swiped it away with my thumb, then sucked it into my mouth.
Clark watched me, his eyes intense, holding me, like they had some kind of power over me, like he was trying to ask me a question with them, only I couldn’t answer. “Sorry. I… Sorry.”
I went to move, but Clark grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “Sky?” he asked, all dark and hoarse, his voice like sex, and damned if I didn’t tremble.
I blamed that voice for what happened next, which was me doing that same really stupid thing again—I leaned forward and kissed him.
He tasted like a sweet Riesling, and he groaned into my mouth, his fist knotting in my hair. I moved toward him, our tongues tangling, tasting. He whimpered when I climbed onto his lap, straddled him, and rested my forehead on his.
“Sky…what are we doing?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, only I did. “I want you…and I know it’s stupid. I know you probably don’t feel the same. I don’t do serious, and you aren’t into casual hookups, but…I want you. I keep trying to tell myself I don’t, but I do.” When he didn’t reply right away, just sat there, hands on my hips, holding me, my heart dropped. Fuck. I’d screwed up. Again. “Sorry. Ignore me. Shit. You said we shouldn’t kiss again. I apologize…”
Clark’s hold on me tightened, his blunt nails digging into my sides. “Wait…don’t be sorry.” His eyes fluttered down, but then he looked up at me. “I want you too,” he whispered.
Fuck yes!
I wanted to scream. To dance. To shout from the window that this sweet, beautiful man wanted me, but I didn’t, just stayed on his lap and asked, “What are we going to do?”
He licked his lips again, and my eyes followed his tongue. I waited…hoped.
26
Clark
“I dunno,” I admitted, my hands turning clammy but still gripping his hips. I thought I must be dreaming or having an out-of-body experience. How was this real? Skylar wanting me, and me wanting him. But only in a physical sense, which was a bummer. “What if we mess up our friendship?”
That made my stomach even more unsettled because I wanted him in my life any way I could have him. I liked knowing he was home waiting for me, or anticipating him climbing into bed after a long night.
“What if we don’t?” Skylar countered, and there it was right there—the stark difference between us, one of many. I was glass half-empty; he was half-full. I wished I could infuse his casual, hopeful attitude directly into my veins so we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We could easily just take what we wanted from each other and move on. Essentially, this entire discussion came down to my hang-ups, and that made me feel guilty.
“Besides,” he said, playing with the buttons on my shirt, “I just found out that I’ll be able to move back to my place in two weeks.” I was glad he couldn’t see my face right then because his words had made my stomach drop. I didn’t want him to go, and yet I always knew this would come to an end eventually. “So I figure we can have space if we need it and regroup.”
“Regroup?” I asked because my brain still felt fuzzy from that declaration.
“If either of us feels strange or needs a time-out.” He’d successfully gotten all my buttons undone, and feeling the air on my bare skin made me tremble. “I think as long as we’re honest with each other about how we feel and what we want, and as long as we make it a point to put our friendship first, we could make it work.”
“True.” I felt more hopeful now. And damn, his words made it seem like we were long-lost lovers instead of just childhood friends, and it made my chest throb.
But that wasn’t what this was. Maybe if we bit the bullet, I could finally get rid of the itch I felt under my skin. Or I’d realize it was no big deal being casual and having fun with someone I was attracted to. And yet…there was that other big thing hanging over my head, so I said, “I can’t be with someone if they’re messing around with other people.”
His eyes swung up to meet mine. “Thing is, it’s been impossible to be with anyone else since I started wanting you.”
I gasped, couldn’t hold it back.
“I know. I can’t believe it either,” he teased. Then his features grew serious. “So that includes the Jaspers of the world?”