It really takes two to go totally no contact, after all.
Lucy rolled her eyes pitifully every time I gasped and jumped into the nearest hiding place. She rolled her eyes every time Eli lingered just a few moments longer in front of our door.
She didn’t pity us a bit.
“What do you think I should do?” I asked her, for the seventh time this week, “Should I say something to him?”
“Yes.” She replied simply, barely paying attention to me as she sipped on her herbal coffee.
I’d stopped complaining when she gave me a mug, at least this one didn’t light my body on fire. Maybe I had a caffeine sensitivity.
“I really should, huh?” I mumbled.
Though the question remained the same every annoying morning, the response varied.
“Today!” I’d proclaimed wildly the first day after ‘the incident,’ with blazing eyes of courage, “I’ll talk to him today!”
Hours later, I’d hidden behind a water fountain, hiding my blushing face in my hands while Eli looked around in confusion for the one who’d called his name.
“I’m never speaking to him again.” Was my dim response the next day, as I slumped in the kitchen chair and tried not to cry too pathetically, “Never again!”
Lucy had only sighed, staring at me dully from across the kitchen table, “Time for class.” She’d muttered, escaping our apartment faster than Speedy Gonzales.
So it only made sense that on this seventh day of mourning, when I once again murmured that I should work up the guts to talk to Eli, that Lucy completely dismissed my words.
So, that’s why it was all the more surprising when Lucy stood, her book bag in hand as she walked to the front of our apartment and swung open the door, only to find Eli standing there, hand raised as he was about to knock on the door.
We didn’t know it at the time, but he’d repeated that gesture every day for the last seven mornings. Today just happened to be the day he got caught.
“Err, hello, Lucy.” He mumbled shyly, straw colored eyes darting past her towards where I sat in my pajamas at the kitchen table.
“Hello, Prince Charming.” She smirked, stepping to the side, “Your princess awaits.” She flitted a hand towards me as she dramatically bowed before scooting around him and walking straight out the apartment.
Hesitantly, Eli shut the door, standing in front of it as though he were about to run off after my roommate in escape.
“Hi.” He said bashfully as I lurched inelegantly to my feet, spilling my mug of coffee all over myself and the table.
He rushed forwards, grabbing a towel from the stove as I fumbled with napkins, trying to sop up the brown mess.
When I turned back to him, I found his eyes grazing over the thin cotton of my long sleep shirt. Shyly, I tugged at the edges, trying to pull it farther down on my thighs.
“I wasn’t expecting company.” I whispered, clearing my throat.
“Sorry.” He muttered.
We stood there, doing nothing but staring at our feet, for five whole minutes of awkward, tense quietness. Even my rambling mouth remained taut and closed.
“So, I guess you’re feeling better?” Eli finally asked, sweeping a hand through his mussed, golden curls. Under the flickering lights of our kitchen, his hair shone like a halo on his tan forehead.
“Yes.” I responded quietly, shifting my feet, “Much. Thanks for getting me back home safe.”
Eli shook his head quickly, eyes meeting mine for one blissful second, “It was nothing.”
“I should probably change.” I finally said, smoothing my hands over the front of my coffee splattered shirt.
My sexy neighbor nodded, one of his fingers reaching out to trace the line of the coffee. Through the flimsy shirt, I could feel the burning warmth of his fingers against my flesh, as though there wasn’t even a barrier.
I gasped quietly, shudder rolling up my back.
Eli froze, huge golden eyes on me. I almost recoiled away, but in the end, I found my body pressing closer against his touch.
Fiery warmth began to slowly swell deep inside of me.
Desire.
It blinded my eyes, as though a red haze or gossamer drape was delicately placed over my face. I blinked furiously, trying to see through the blazing warmth.
His hand moved, his entire palm sweeping against me. Abruptly, he pulled me into his embrace, the pounding of his racing heart matching mine as our chests came clumsily pressed together. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.
While his hand remained over my shirt, strong arm wrapped around my waist, clinging to me as though I were a life preserver and he were floating in the water, his other hand danced dangerously on my thigh below the edge of my shirt.
He lifted me higher up against him so that my toes struggled to remain on the kitchen floor, ultimately, he lifted me up into his arms so that my legs twined around his strong, muscled waist.