“I’m saying that sleeping in the same bed as you would be . . .”
“What, Xavier, what would it be?”
Fuck it. He needs to tell her.
“Torture, okay?”
“Wow. Okay, I’m sorry if I . . . if I made you feel uncomfortable or . . .”
“No, that’s not . . . listen, you’re beautiful, you know that, right? Gorgeous,” his eyes run slowly down, leisurely taking her in, allowing himself that luxury, “and being that close to you all night would be fucking torture.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
When did they get so close together? His eyes flick down again, to her lips and then back up to meet hers.
She opens her mouth and then closes it again.
“I know it’s not the same for you and that’s okay.”
“Who says?” she asks, voice no more than a whisper. So low he needs to make sure he heard her right.
“What?”
“Who says it wouldn’t be the same for me?”
“Would it?”
“Don’t pretend like . . . like you don’t know.”
“Know what?” But there is absolutely no containing his smile, one side of his mouth lifting, and he catches her eyes flickering down to it. “Do I do to you what you do to me?”
“Xavier,” she says his name, half scolding, half desperate, still staring at his mouth.
“Fuck, boss, you gotta tell me what you want. I won’t . . . if it isn’t what you want, then I won’t, but . . .”
“But if I do . . . want?”
“Then you just have to tell me. This is your call, always will be.”
“I do want, but I feel like maybe I shouldn’t . . . because . . .”
“Because?”
“Because you’re leaving.”
And just like that, the sweet buildup of tension is broken with the inescapable truth. Even if they both want this, want eachother, no matter how much, in a few weeks he’s leaving, and starting something now won’t lead to anything except pain on the other side of that.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, wait . . .” she says, reaching out and grabbing his hand as he tries to step around her.
The touch of her soft skin against his is a shock to his system, his skin prickling with sudden awareness of her, of how close she is, of the sweet scent of her hair and the soft glow in her eyes and the generous curves of her body. Whatever she wants from him, she can have.
“Stay with me. Not . . . not to . . .” She hesitates. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but this sucks and there’s no one else to talk to about it. I just . . . could you stay and just be there?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I could do that.”
