The Roommate Pact(51)
Claire was draped over his chest as he traced figure eights along her bare back.
“No?”
“No. It sounds so crass to me.”
“Sorry. I just figured it was the best way to describe what we’re doing.” Graham tucked his free hand behind his head. “What do you want me to call it? Making love feels too flowery and boning just sounds juvenile.”
She openly admired his biceps as she spoke. “Can’t we just say we’re having sex?”
“I guess. It’s kind of clinical.”
“Clinical would be intercourse. Or coitus.”
Graham shuddered. “You’re right, sex is better.”
“Penetration?”
“There’s no excuse to use that word. Ever.”
Claire laughed against his chest and his heart did something funny, which he ignored.
They lay there a few moments without speaking. Graham couldn’t stop thinking about what they just did, and how incredible it was despite him being in less than peak condition. What was she thinking about?
“I’m sorry your date was an asshole,” he finally said.
She smirked at him. “Seemed to work out well in your favor.”
He cracked a grin. “I didn’t say I was sorry it didn’t work out. I’m just sorry he was a dick to you. He didn’t deserve even a second of your time.”
“Agreed.”
“In fact, I want all the seconds he got. Take them back and give them to me.”
She put her hand flat on his chest and propped her chin there. “That’s not how time works. I don’t have the superpower you gave me.”
“What did you guys talk about before you met up? He doesn’t get to know anything about you I don’t.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. You know way more about me than he does. You know more than almost anyone I know, actually. You and Mia are the only ones who really know how my dad died. Only you know I’ve watched the Jess and Nick episode of New Girl dozens of times.”
“You know more about me than anyone else, too.”
“Really? What’s mine and mine alone?”
“Nathan knew about my mom’s diagnosis. You’re my only living friend that does. And I’ve never told anyone else we were too poor to have a pet.”
“And yet you still won’t tell me about Angela DiMarco.”
I did, though. You just don’t know it. “Don’t be greedy.”
“I can’t help it. I like knowing you, Graham.”
It took the words a few seconds to come out, as if his brain worried he was admitting to something more serious.
“I like knowing you, too.”
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: The sex
Claire,
You’ve officially ruined me for other women.
How did you do that?
This was supposed to be just sex. I’m inclined to accuse you of having a magic vagina, but on second thought it seems far-fetched. Plus, there’s the fact that I’ve had hints of this feeling every time we’ve kissed, and more that night we messed around. But tonight? It was multiplied by factors of infinity and I hardly did anything. You were so damn sexy and confident and I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful.
What will you feel like when I can move with you and use my whole body? How will it feel for you when I’m on top, or when I push you against the wall? How will it feel to me?
Fuck, I hope I get the chance to find out. And not only because it felt good (and believe me, it felt GOOD), but there’s something else, too. Something that freaks me out a little bit.
I don’t usually look women in the eye when we have sex. Weird, right? I think it’s sort of like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and how she didn’t kiss on the mouth. It just feels so personal. I just don’t really like letting people see too deep, you know? I opened up once with Angela, and that shit followed me for years. Never again, I promised myself.
So they see what I want them to see, which is a fun, confident, adventure-loving guy who doesn’t care about much else, and definitely doesn’t care about what people think of him. But I’ve always believed that saying that eyes are the window to the soul, and while I can control what I reflect most of the time, barriers fall down during sex. For me, at least. I figure I probably shouldn’t be doing it if I can’t let go at least a little. Still, I’ve always held on to a shred of emotional privacy, even when my body is for the taking.
But just now? With you? I felt myself slipping. My eyes kept drifting to yours even when I didn’t want them to, and I couldn’t stop looking at you. I desperately wanted to know if you’d let go and if I could see all the way down into the hidden corners of you, or if you were closed off in places, too.
Usually I don’t care about that shit. I’ve never been in it for that. But that was before you.
I’m not gonna say anything yet, and you still don’t know about these letters. This cast comes off soon, and then I find out where my recovery goes from there. And I hope that means you and I have more time and I can figure out what this is and what, if anything, I’m gonna do about it.
I can say one thing for sure, Claire Harper. You caught me off guard and I don’t scare easy.