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I approach her slowly, bending down to brush her wild auburn curls away from her face. She peers back at me from beneath heavy lids. “Why did you kiss me?” She asks.
To be honest, I’m not sure if she means the other day or prom night, and I don’t have a good answer for either.
My brows furrow as I sit gently on the edge of her bed, still turned to face her. “Because I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” she whispers. For a moment, there’s clarity in her eyes, enough to make me wonder if she’s sobered… but then she hiccups.
I chuckle and continue to wrap one of her curls around my finger, admiring how beautiful she looks when she’s relaxed like this
Her face screws up in concentration, adorable nose scrunching. “So, we’ve missed each other… well, that’s something.”
“Good night, Isabella,” I say, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Inside, I’m ready to bolt before this gets any more tense.
But then, Izzy tilts her chin up. She’s so close that her breath fans my cheeks. Her pupils are wide, making her hazel eyes dark as she fixes them on my mouth. “Night, Nathan.”
Before I can blink she surges up and kisses me. The touch of her lips is fleeting, a mere whisper. Yet it might as well have been a live wire.
One soft brush and I’m kissing her like I’m drowning and she’s air. She’s kissing me back just as fiercely. My hands tangle in her hair as she grips the front of my shirt like a lifeline. God, I’ll never get enough of this, of her. I’m consumed by a sudden, desperate need to feel every inch of her. The same feeling that gripped me that night in the park.
Every second that has gone by these seven years comes pouring out in a flood of need. A flood of need that will consume me if I let it…
…not a bad way to go, I decide as I let her pull me down on top of her. My body covers hers. She deepens the kiss. The comforter rustles as she brushes her legs along mine, squirming to get closer against the fabric that separates us.
My cock strains against my jeans, it’s almost painful, and I’d give anything to take them off and relieve the pressure. Izzy seems to realize this, too. Her hands slide between us, seeking out the button at my waist.
Yes. That’s exactly what I need.
She pops open the button and slips her hands inside. The moment her hands stroke along my cock, I mutter her name, like she’s coaxing the words out of me. But the sound of my own voice sends reality crashing down on me like a hammer to the skull. I suddenly realize what I’m doing. Izzy is drunk… and I’m not.
I tear my lips away, leaving us both panting for breath. “Iz…” I reluctantly take her hands and slide them out of my pants so I can button up. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” She asks as if it could ever be so simple.
“Because you’re drunk… and as soon as you’re not, you’re going to remember that you hate me for some reason.”
She tugs the blanket up to her chin, lips back in that adorable pout. “I’ve never hated you, Nathan.” She yawns. “I don’t hate you so much it scares me. That’s the problem. I wish I hated you, though… be easier.”
Well, on that note. I shake my head as she shuts her eyes and commences snoring with impressive speed. My cock is still aching uncomfortably as I go back into the main room. I haven’t been this sexually frustrated since high school, when I was spending every weekend with Evan while I pretended not to notice Izzy lying by the pool or flitting around in a sundress.
She was always going to be my damnation. I think I gave up that fight a long time ago. I decide I should leave a glass of water and some Tylenol on her nightstand because she’s going to have a killer hangover tomorrow. The labradoodle watches me skeptically, as I rifle in the kitchen cabinets for a glass.
I finally find the glasses, just in time for the front door to open. My thoughts scatter. I know I commented on her lack of a ring… but I never outright asked if she was seeing anyone. Fuck. What if she lives with someone? I glance around, frantic. I don’t see any evidence of a man living here. On the contrary, there’s… toys? I assumed they were dog toys at first glance, but upon closer inspection, they look like they belong to a kid. A handheld video game, a soccer ball…
Julia walks into the main room, with a sleeping child in her arms. The girl is far too big to be carried around, and yet, Julia is managing. We both freeze when we see each other. Like that meme of Spiderman seeing himself.
“Nathan,” she says, sounding devoid of all emotion. Not surprised, not upset, just robotic.
“Jules,” I say, in turn. “Ah—Izzy had a few too many beers, so I brought her home. Nothing happened.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to qualify this but… there it is. It’s almost true, nothing much happened…yet…
“Right,” she says, still holding a giant sleeping child. Maybe not giant… I guess I don’t spend much time around kids. Not enough to know what size they ought to be.
I realize too late that she’s waiting for me to get the fuck out of what must also be her house. “Right… I’ll just—” I give a vague wave to the door, and then I’m out of there, no trace of dignity in sight, thoughts racing at this new discovery.
It takes me longer than it should to realize the kid must be Julia’s. Obviously.
CHAPTER 7
Isabella
