The weirdest thing went through her, when he said those last words. It felt like the urge she’d had to go to him, when she’d seen the bruise that was still apparent on his face.
She couldn’t go with it, however. Something else needed clarifying first.
“I’m your girlfriend?”
His expression softened immediately, immeasurably. She suspected hurt was at least twenty percent responsible for the change, however. No wonder she’d wanted to go to him—he was actually wounded by what she’d said. And now that she’d spelled out exactly what she thought of their situation, it got worse.
“Evie…honey…of course you’re my girlfriend.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? It’s my fault.” He ruffled his hair again. It was getting long enough on top to ruffle. “I talk more to you than I’ve ever talked to anyone in my life, and I’m still missing some pretty important words.”
“Your words are fine—it’s me. I don’t know enough to assume. I can’t assume. I just feel so small sometimes it seems crazy to assume.”
His plump lips thinned into that firm line.
“You’re my girlfriend, Evie. That’s all there is to it.” He blew out a long breath, once the words were out. Some of the tension in him went with it. “And listen—I’m not that guy. I don’t want to push you—I will never push you. I mean Jesus, up until now I’ve felt as though you were pushing me.”
She tried to hold down the wince that threatened—because God, he was right. Somehow, she was the bad boyfriend in this scenario. He always did the no, slow down, we should wait sort of thing.
Whereas she…
“Oh Lord. I’m the person trying to get you into the back of my truck with candy.”
It was almost a relief, when he laughed right out loud. Shook his head and took a step toward the bed.
“No, no—fuck no. I didn’t mean it that way. I like that you’re like that.” He hesitated, then just seemed to go for broke. “It makes it more exciting that you’re like that.”
“Really?”
“God, yeah. Don’t think I’ve ever been so turned-on in my life, than that night when you…”
She was glad he just left it hanging. It sent more heat to her cheeks, just thinking about it.
“But it’s not just stuff like that, okay? I want time to be with you.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, but she noticed he didn’t try to look. Not even a little bit. And his hand touched something perfectly innocent too, like the shape of her foot beneath the covers. “I want to just eat Chinese food and watch movies and talk. I want to be able to actually talk with someone.”
She leaned toward him. Voice barely more than a whisper, for reasons she couldn’t fathom. “Why am I that someone?”
Some part of her was afraid of the answer, but she had to ask. She just didn’t expect him to reach forward and stroke the backs of his fingers over her cheek, once she’d done it.
“You don’t even know how lovely you are, my Evie.”
It was the word my that made her reach for him and kiss his perfect lips. It just surged up inside her, until she’d caught his mouth with hers. Tasted that spice again, felt him shiver, felt his hand go to her bare arm.
That giddy electricity happened again, the moment he did—though she suspected it was the newness of the sensation. He wasn’t half doing something through material, or brushing something with the back of his hand.
He was skin to skin with her, really and properly. It made her want to grab for him, take his face in her hands, kiss him harder and wetter, though of course the moment she did he jolted as though struck. Just one hand on something innocuous, like his side, and suddenly he wasn’t kissing her anymore.
And he kissed her even less, when she let the covers drop.
“Okay. Okay,” he said, but there didn’t seem to be any end to that. No added words to go with the one he’d just repeated. Instead he looked and then didn’t, looked and then didn’t, seemingly unsure as to whether he should move away or stay right there.
She understood why, of course. If he moved, he’d be able to see pretty much everything. She could feel her nipples stiffening in the cold air, and goose bumps had started breaking out all over some places that weren’t used to being exposed.
But then, if he stayed…if he stayed he’d have to let her touch, and he didn’t seem ready for that at all. His breath caught in his throat, his hands went to her wrists—and for nothing more than a light caress along on his sides.
Of course, the light caress sort of maybe went a little beneath his t-shirt, but still. Surely he wasn’t going to object over something so tame? Surely now he was going to actually let her feel all of the parts of him she’d dreamt of too many times, like the perfect curve of his glorious ass in those near-tight jeans, or maybe the thing all of that hair on his belly pointed to.