by Claire Raye
“That was really fucking gross, Char,” I say, fanning the air between us.
“Like I fucking care,” she mumbles, laughing. “I’m dead serious though. Stop hating yourself and go sleep with Adam.” She swats me on the ass, shoving me toward the door.
“Oh my god,” I yell out, covering my face with my hands.
“Go!” Charlie yells back, again, nudging me in the direction of the door. I look around at our apartment filled with people, hesitating for a second, but that’s when I see a few girls Charlie met at class, two of them squealing as they run toward her.
“I’m going!” And I do just that. I take myself out the door, the plastic cup full of beer that I have been nursing is still in my hand and before I know it, I find myself knocking on Adam’s door.
Chapter Twelve
Adam
I can tell there’s a party raging as soon as the lift doors open, the sound of music and voices filling the corridor and filtering all the way down to me. I smile, shaking my head as I see Mila, standing in front of my door, her fist knocking as she calls out my name.
Chuckling I walk toward her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take full advantage of it and blatantly check her out. She’s wearing these tight jeans that cling to her legs and show off every fucking curve of her body. Her top is loose, hanging off one shoulder and giving me a glimpse of skin and a black bra strap. Fucking hell, she’s hot.
“You looking for someone?” I call out as I get closer.
Mila turns, leaning against my door as a lazy smile tugs at her mouth. “Adam!”
I laugh as I come to a stop in front of her. “Are you a little pissed right now, beautiful?”
Mila smiles even as her brows narrow. “I’m not pissed.”
“You sure about that,” I ask, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “’Cause you kinda seem like you are.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, the move only drawing my attention to it. “Why would I be pissed?” she asks. “I have nothing to be pissed about.”
I chuckle, realizing now that actually, she’s not drunk at all. “Of course you don’t.”
“No seriously,” she says. “Why would I be pissed?”
“It’s a lost in translation thing, Mila,” I say with a smirk, as I reach past her to unlock my door. “Good party?”
Just as I ask, the door to Mila’s apartment swings open and three guys stumble out, yelling something obnoxious and clearly drunk. Mila jumps, her hand suddenly grabbing my arm as she moves closer, half hiding behind me.
“You okay?” I ask, glancing down.
Mila nods, her eyes wide, but she doesn’t say anything as she watches these three guys who are acting like total idiots.
“You wanna come in?” I ask and she nods again.
I open the door and walk inside, Mila following me in, still holding onto my arm. It’s not until the door closes behind us that she finally relaxes, letting out an exhale as she murmurs, “Thanks.”
I raise an eyebrow in question, because while those guys were clearly shitfaced, Mila seemed genuinely scared for a second there. “No worries. You sure you’re alright?”
She glances up at me. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit?” she asks.
“Of course. You want a drink?”
She shakes her head, even as she smiles at me now.
“What?” I ask, wondering what the smile is about.
“So, it’s okay if I drink here, but not at the bar?”
I laugh, shaking my head as I explain, “It’s a bit different at the bar given you’re the future sister-in-law of my boss,” I explain. “Shit got real with that little development, Mila.”
“I see,” she says as she follows me into the kitchen.
I throw my keys and phone on the bench, grabbing a beer from the fridge as I turn to see her tip the contents of her cup down the drain before she hops up onto the bench, swinging her legs as she watches me.
“So,” I start.
“So,” she mimics back with a smirk.
“You weren’t having fun at your party?”
Mila shrugs, her eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t know, not really. Why? You wanna go now?”
I laugh, lifting the bottle to my mouth as I take a long pull. “What and hang out with a bunch of underage uni students who will basically see my appearance as free rein on not getting carded every time they come into The Last Drop? No chance.”
“Good point,” she says, kicking off her shoes which fall to the floor with a thud.
I push off the bench and walk toward her, stopping when I’m about a foot away. Mila widens her legs slightly, as if in invitation, but I resist, despite how tempted I am to move closer. “So, what do you want to do?” I ask and I swear it sounds like a loaded question, even to me.
Her mouth curves into a slow and seductive smile as she watches me, almost like she’s actually thinking about it. Daring me maybe to push this flirty thing we have going on a little bit further.
“I don’t know, watch TV?” she eventually suggests.
I smile even though every single fiber of my soul wants to lean in and kiss her and suggest we do something entirely different. What I really want is to step between her legs, slide my hand around to her arse and pull her closer as I press my mouth against hers. But as tempting as that is, I don’t, taking another long swig of my beer as I say, “Well, I’m just gonna go take a shower, so make yourself at home, beautiful.”
The word slips out and Mila eyes me with a strange look, making me laugh as I walk out of the kitchen and down to my bathroom, finishing my beer off along the way.
I close the door behind me, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Mila is here, in my apartment, while I’m currently getting naked in my shower.
Fuck me, the possibilities for what could happen next are endless.
After I’m done, I pull on a pair of sweats that were in the bathroom and wander back to my bedroom to grab a t-shirt, before heading into the living room.
I half expect Mila to be gone, because surely hanging out with her friends at a party is more fun than hanging out with me.
But as I turn the shirt out the right way so I can put it on, I hear her gasp from the couch, obviously watching me as I get dressed. Quickly pulling the t-shirt down, I look over at her sitting on my couch, the book from my coffee table in her hand.
Her eyes are wide, clearly having seen the huge scar across my chest. “What’s that from?” she asks, pointing to my now covered chest.
I look down, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about. “Car accident. So, you find something to watch?” I ask, changing the subject.
Mila shrugs, biting her bottom lip. I can tell she wants to ask more now that she’s seen more of my scars, but she doesn’t, instead throwing the book on the table. “I don’t mind what we watch.”
I walk over to the couch, sitting beside her. Even though we’ve done this many times before, tonight it feels different, sitting alone in my apartment with her. Maybe it’s because of the kiss or maybe it’s because we’ve started to share tiny parts of ourselves with each other, I don’t know.
But as dangerous as it feels, I also don’t want her to go.
She yawns as she settles back into the couch.
“So,” I say, turning to her, “you’re not going back to your party?” She shakes her head to confirm my question. “They might be missing you.”
She shakes her head again. “They won’t. And besides, everyone’s drunk.”
“And you’re not,” I say, nudging her with my elbow.
She shakes her head, pulling her feet underneath her as she moves slightly closer. “I’m not, no,” she replies. “How come you’re home alone tonight?”
I burst out laughing at the random change of topic. “Well, I mean, the closest person I have to a friend is currently at home with your sister, so yeah, it’s
just me.”
“You haven’t made many friends since you’ve been living here?” she asks, smoothing her hand over her jeans.
I shrug, even though she’s not looking at me. “Dunno, guess not,” I say wondering if that makes me sound like a total loser. “Kinda just stick to myself.”
“Really?” she asks, glancing at me, a surprised look on her face.
“Yeah, why, does that surprise you?”
Now it’s Mila shrugging. “You don’t bring girls from the bar home?” she asks, immediately blushing, the same jealous tone to her question that I heard the other night as she looks away from me.
I laugh now, sliding my fingers under her chin and tilting her face so she’s looking at me again. “And why would you think that?”
She shrugs. “I dunno, ’cause you’re a flirt, there’s tons of drunk college girls throwing themselves at you and you’re fucking hot.”
I throw my head back laughing. “Fucking hot, huh?”
Mila rolls her eyes. “That’s what you took from that?”
“It was the best part,” I say with a smirk. “But again, your assumptions are wrong. I don’t bring girls home. They tend to just show up at my door when they want to escape parties or bring me dinner,” I add, giving her a wink.
Mila smiles a little, biting her bottom lip as she says, “So how many girls have you slept with?”
“Oh my god,” I say, laughing. “What’s with the interrogation?”
“Just getting to know you.”
“I see,” I reply, stalling with another sip of beer. “Tell you what, you tell me your number, I’ll tell you mine.”
Mila smirks. “Well, I’ve slept with zero girls.”
“Ha ha smart arse,” I say, pinching her side. “And guys?”
“No judgement?” she asks, pausing a little, and I shake my head in response. “Five.”
“Three for me,” I admit.
“Three!?”
“Oh jesus, judgy much?” I tease.
Mila slaps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she says, her cheeks darkening. “I just, you know…”
“Assumed more, cause I’m fucking hot?” I prompt.
“Something like that.”
I chuckle, sliding down a little on the couch. “Well, I’m less of a one-night stand kinda guy and more of a relationship guy,” I say. “By the time I was in uni, I was pretty much in a long-term thing.”
“What happened?” Mila asks, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Where is she now?”
I suck in a breath; certain I don’t want to tell her this story. I’ve kind of backed myself into a corner though and I’m not sure how to get out of it without lying to her, which I definitely don’t want to do.
“She died,” I eventually say, my words quiet.
“Oh my god, Adam,” she breathes out, her hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry.”
She seems genuinely sorry and so full of sympathy it makes my chest ache. But as much as I know it’s real, I really need her to not ask me any more questions, because I’m not sure I’ll be able to tell her without totally falling apart.
Exhaling, I plaster on a fake smile. “Thanks,” I reply, squeezing her leg. “So anyway, no prospects over there for you?” I ask, tipping my chin in the direction of her apartment even as the very thought of her with someone else makes me jealous as hell.
Mila watches me, her expression unchanged as though she knows what I’m doing right now and she’s trying to work out if she should let me get away with it. Eventually she shakes her head. “No, none at all.”
When I wake up, I’m hot, still dressed in my sweatpants and t-shirt and lying on my couch. I’m also hard as hell and unbelievably horny, probably because of who’s with me. I’m lying on my back, and beside me is Mila, her body wrapped around mine like a vine, her hand under my t-shirt and resting on the bare skin of my stomach as she sleeps.
I don’t even remember falling asleep. We’d talked for ages after my little revelation and although she hadn’t asked me any more about Rachel and how she died, I could tell the questions were there. But like always with us, we drop a secret bombshell and then we move on, somehow knowing when to leave it.
She’d never gone back to her apartment and we’d never turned on the TV and I guess at some point we both just fell asleep.
And so now here we are, lying on my couch together.
And I’m fucking hard.
I lift my arm, scrubbing a hand down my face, trying not to disturb her. She shuffles a little, murmuring something as she turns her face into my neck, but doesn’t wake up. Lying on my back, I turn my head so I’m facing her. As though she senses the change in position, she shifts closer again, flinging her leg across my legs.
Her arm across my stomach is dangerously close to my hard-on and I move my hand so it’s resting on her arm in case she accidently shifts it lower. I can feel her warm breath against my skin, the heat of her body as it rests against mine.
It’s been over a year since I shared a bed, or whatever this is right now, with a woman, and it surprises me to realize just how much I’ve missed it. And just like with the kiss Mila and I shared a week or so ago, I lie here now, waiting to feel guilty.
But the guilt never comes and instead all I can think is, I could definitely get used to this.
I should get up or at the very least, move so we aren’t lying here like we’re a couple, but I don’t. Instead, I lie as still as I can, watching her sleep and enjoying the feeling of being close to someone again.
Because even though I chose to run away, to close myself off to everyone, it doesn’t mean I don’t miss the connection, the comfort that comes from human contact with someone who just somehow gets you.
I know Mila is that person for me. I don’t know why or how, only that she is. Maybe it’s the way she can see inside me, see all the pain and secrets I hold, yet doesn’t look away. Or maybe it’s that I can see all those secrets and pain reflected right back at me in a way that tells me she gets it because she feels it too.
I don’t know.
But as easy as it would be to just give in and go there with her, as tempting as it all is, I can’t.
I’m too afraid. Of hurting her and of losing her.
She eventually starts to stir, and I quickly close my eyes, pretending to be asleep as she moves around. I can tell the second she opens her eyes and works out where she is, the surprised gasp followed by a murmured, “Shit.”
I let out a chuckle, which is met with a soft elbow to the ribs.
“You’re awake?”
Opening my eyes, I turn to her. “I am now.”
Mila blinks away her sleepiness. “We fell asleep.”
“It would appear so.”
“Shit,” she says again. “It legit happens.”
“What?” I ask, chuckling a little.
She props herself up on her elbow and meets my gaze. “I gave Ruby so much shit when she claimed she just fell asleep on the couch with Caleb before they were together.”
I burst out laughing at the randomness of this girl. It’s so damn cute. “Charlie going to be worried about where you are?” I ask.
Mila shakes her head. “No, she knew I was coming over here.”
I try not to read too much into that. “So, you gonna head home and see what the damage is?” I ask.
Mila pulls away a little, sitting up on the side of the couch as she rubs at her eyes before combing her fingers through her hair. “If I go home, then I’ll have to help clean up,” she moans. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I chuckle. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”
Mila glances over her shoulder at me. Her beautiful brown eyes locking with mine as though she’s looking right into my soul. It’s almost unnerving how much it feels like she can see through me, can see every single thought in my head. I swear if she was to make a move right now, I’m not sure I’d be able to stop myself.
My self-r
estraint with this girl is almost non-existent now, my resolve slowly slipping as she somehow gets under my skin, burrowing in deep and lodging herself in a place I thought was long dead.
I wait for her answer, my eyes never leaving hers, almost as though I’m daring her to just do it. But she doesn’t, instead smiling softly as she says, “Brekkie?”
It’s like she knows this is all too much for me, that while I’m getting closer to letting someone back into my life, I’m not quite there yet.
Smiling, I say, “Brekkie I can do,” before swinging my legs over the side of the couch and heading to the bathroom to do something about this fucking morning wood I’ve got.
Trying to ignore the disappointment I feel that it’s not going to involve her.
Chapter Thirteen
Mila
I hear the shower start and I’m pretty sure I know exactly what he’s doing in there, something I wish I was doing with him, something that both of us want, but can’t bring ourselves to admit to. I’m starting to question this ridiculous hold I’ve put on myself and, in a way, I’m also really impressed by my self-control. I had no idea I had it in me.
Instead, I walk into his kitchen and open the fridge to see what he has to eat. I’ll start breakfast so when he’s done and settled, we can eat. But that plan falls flat the second I open his fridge and find basically nothing. He has milk, beer, a few apples, a loaf of bread and some cheese slices.
Not only is his apartment half empty, everything pretty much is. It’s clear he doesn’t plan to stay and has no intention of putting down enough roots that he has to.
I grab my phone and order breakfast from one of my favorite places, having it delivered in the next hour. I have no idea what Adam likes other than flirting with me, so I order a small assortment of things, figuring we can share.
After I order, I text Charlie to make sure she knows I’m okay and also to check in on her. I did leave her ass semi-unattended at a party at our house, even though I know should anything have happened she would’ve handled it.
