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“I’m just saying. Technically, this counts.” I laugh.
“No, it doesn’t,” she says. “We aren’t even naked.”
“Well,” I hesitate. “Maybe you’re not naked…”
Willette’s body stiffens for a moment, my admission clearly surprising her. “God, don’t tell me that.” She exhales a sigh.
“Just being honest,” I say, shrugging against her.
“So much for having breakfast together,” she says, changing the subject.
“I’m sure we can think of something,” I counter. “Plus, I’m sure the electricity will be back on by then. Probably any minute now.”
The room grows quiet for a moment, and I inhale against her hair, the scent of coconut filling my senses.God. This is torture.
Be good, I remind myself.
She wiggles back and forth, pressing her ass into me. I don’t think it’s purposeful, but Jesus.
“Are you really totally naked?” she asks, cutting into the silence.
“Uh, well,” I say. “Not totally. But definitely mostly.”
“Ugh,” she says. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”
This statement gives me pause. BecauseYES. She is as bothered as I am. Given the situation, that’s all I could really hope for. “Hey,” I say, “it’s not like I knew you’d be joining me at four in the morning.”
“Fair enough,” she says. “But what would you do if there was a fire?”
“Well, I’d run outside in my boxer briefs and head straight to my car because I have dark tinted windows.”
She laughs hard, the sound echoing against the walls of the room.
“Besides, admit it. I look good naked. Or shirtless at least. I don’t think the old lady downstairs would mind too much.”
Will elbows me in the ribs. “Don’t be stupid.” She laughs harder.
I press my fingers into her ribs, tickling her as payback, and she begins to jump around, away from me as I try to hold her in place.
“Please, no. Stop,” she says, gasping for a breath.
I roll her back against me, keeping my grip firmly on her ribcage. Only this time I turn her toward me so we’re facing each other. Now her face is only a few inches from mine, the edge of the blanket pulled up covering her mouth. Even in this dim light, I can see a glint in her deep brown eyes.
“Derek,” she whispers.
I hum in response, tucking my arm over her center, pressing my palm to her back.
“We’ve known each other a long time. What made you decide to ask me on a date after so long?”
I’m silent for a moment, because I don’t know. “Honestly,” I say, “I’m not sure what compelled me. I just…I don’t know. Being so close to you in this apartment, it just felt different. I’m not sure I can explain it.”
“I understand,” she says.
Perhaps it was the same for her. Just a sudden, surprising shift. Unexpected, but at the end of the day, really great.
“I don’t think the electricity is coming back on,” I admit. “At least not for a while.”
“We should try to check for info on our phones,” she suggests.
