AllFreeNovel
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Not only playing Fortnite once a week or when we make plans, but the days inbetween.
Weekends, like thisone.
Mornings, when she’s rubbing sleep from her eyes and cursing about the demands from clients coming in the door later that day. Evenings, when we can meet up for takeout andtalk.
Nights, when I could hold her until I convinced myself everything is right in the world. Kiss her until she’s breathless. Touch her until she’s blind withpleasure.
I love hearing her say my name in that teasing voice, or the chiding one, or the call-me-on-my-bullshitone.
How would she say it when I’m deep insideher?
I roll over and force my gaze to the wall, the art print outlined in thedark.
If she were my girl, it would complicate things. Be a distraction at best. When it ended, which it would eventually because they alwaysdo…
I’d lose my best friend. Part of myself along withher.
The possibility has my gut twisting. I’m not taking that chance with Daisy. She’s not some woman I can date until she decides I’m unyielding or I decide she’s demanding and we cut one anotherloose.
And then there’s the ghost between us.A memory that feels likemore.
I chose her sister once, before I knew them well enough to realize all of the stunning subtleties Daisy alonepossessed.
It was a cautionary tale, a lone regret in a sea of bad decisions I chalk up toexperience.
I shift, trying to get comfortable on themattress.
She finds me. Presses her soft, warm chest to myback.
Fuck.
She’s as persistent asleep as she is awake. I don’t know whether to curse or admireit.
Tonight, with no one to bear witness, I give in. My hand drifts back, curls over her hip, and like that, I fallasleep.
* * *
In the morning,I wake to find her alreadygone.
I go for a run then take a shower, and when I get out, she’s pacing the room on the phone, facing away, wearing a bright yellow sundress that makes my dicktwitch.
When she hangs up, beaming, I say, "Good news, I takeit.”
“The photographer will have proofs for me Tuesday,” she says, whirling to face me. Her smile falls away when she sees me dressed in just thetowel.
“That’s great. How’d you sleep?” I ask as I rub a second towel through myhair.
She wets her lips. “Okay, Ithink."
The moment hangs between us, the realization we shared abed.
“You talk in your sleep,” shesays.
“I do not.” I blink. “What did Isay?”
“Nottelling.”
Somehow I had the upper hand and lost it, but shecontinues.
