If only he knew . . .
Saw in himself what I see in him.
It’s all there, deep inside . . . just waiting to be let out.
“Hi.” I smile.
His big eyes hold mine. “Hey, baby,” he whispers as he pulls me in for a hug.
We stand in each other’s arms as if we haven’t seen each other for a month. I want to blurt out that I missed him today . . . but I won’t.
Because that’s not the game we’re playing.
“How was your day?” he asks as we begin to walk. He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingertips.
“Long . . . hellish.” I sigh.
“How’s your tummy? I was worried when you were ill this morning.”
I poke him in the ribs. “Did you ever think you would ever be worried about period pain?” I tease.
He chuckles. “Definitely not.”
“Are the pharmacies still open?” I hold my aching tummy. “I need to find a heat pack somewhere.”
“Is it still hurting?” He frowns.
“I’ve just had some paracetamol. It will be fine in a little while.”
We go to a few pharmacies, and they’re all closed.
“I’ll be fine. The pills are working already. Let’s just go home.”
“You sure?” he asks.
I smile. Who knew that my player friend would be so caring? Underneath all that popular bullshit, he’s an absolute sweetheart.
We get back to the hostel and into our room. Basil is working tonight and won’t be home until late.
“You heading out?” I ask.
“No.” He frowns. “Unless . . . do you want to go out?”
“No, I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We head into the bathroom and take showers. I get dressed in my pajamas and head into the room.
Christopher is already in my bed, and my stomach does a little flip.
We’ve been sleeping together lately, tangled together beneath the sheets. Our bodies snug up against each other.
And I feel so close to him that . . . I can’t explain it. It’s a weird situation.
I climb in beside him, and he rolls onto his side. “I found a heat pack.”
“Did you? Where?”
He puts his large hand over my lower stomach. “How’s this?” he whispers.
We stare at each other in the darkness, electricity crackling between us.
“Better,” I breathe.
This is the first time we’ve been alone in our room. Usually there are four other people with us, all chatting and laughing.
Tonight, it’s different.
There’s something in the air . . . something more.
His face is millimeters from my face, his big warm hand protective over my stomach, and a sense of belonging pours over me.
“What are you doing here with me?” I whisper. “You should be out chasing girls.”
“You’re my only girl,” he whispers.
We stare at each other.
And I desperately want to believe him . . . but I don’t know if I’m brave enough to let myself go there. But I want to . . .