Page 74 of Hate Mail


Font Size:

I write his name on the envelope. Nothing else, no address. I put on my shoes and head downstairs. I walk past Joel and stick the envelope on the shelf on top of the mailboxes, where Luca will be able to see it if he comes back into the building.

Joel is frowning at me when I turn around. “What’s that?”

“Bait,” I say. “Let me know if you see who grabs it.”

He harrumphs in response. I head back upstairs.

ChapterTwenty-Two

THINK ABOUT ME

Idream about Luca tonight. It starts off innocent enough. I walk out of my apartment building and he’s there, standing on the sidewalk, facing the road. I don’t know how I know that it’s him, but I do. I call his name, and he turns around, but before I can see his face, I’m somewhere else. I’m in my apartment, and he’s here. It’s dark, so I can’t see him. He’s evasive. One moment, he’s right next to me, and the next, I’m reaching for him, but it’s like trying to grab smoke. My hands slip right through him and then he’s on the other side of me, laughing. I fall to the floor, and the next thing I know, his legs are tangled with mine. I try to touch him, but he moves, and all I feel is a blanket. My floor is covered in blankets.

His hands slide over my body, and he whispers into my ear about how it turned him on to see my head floating around on the news. I reach for him again, and even though he’s so close to me, all I can feel is the fabric of the blanket. He laughs at me, then asks why I never tried to find him sooner. I start to get frustrated. I just want to touch him, to know that he’s real, but the harder I try, the more tangled I become in these blankets, until I can’t feel him at all anymore.

I’m startled awake when I hear a knock at my door. I have my blackout curtains drawn, so it feels like it’s the middle of the night, but when I look at my bedside clock, I see that it’s only seven in the evening. I’ve been in bed for an hour. I groan. My first instinct is to shout through the door at whoever interrupted my dream. I was so close to finding Luca. My whole body feels flushed. I don’t know what I would have done if I could have reached him in my dream. I feel tense, like I was on the verge of uncovering something important. There’s this warm ache between my legs, and I realize I know what it is. I wanted him here in my bed with me. I was about to have a sex dream. About Luca.

Whoever disturbed my sleep did so just in time, though I’m not sure knowing this is any better. I cover my face, but when I close my eyes, all I see are the images from my dream. My whole body feels hot and a thin layer of perspiration glazes my skin. As much as I don’t want to think about what just went on inside my head, I know why it happened. It’s all the time I’ve been spending with Jake – the touching, the flirting, but never taking it any further than that – combined with the letters from Luca, hinting at him wanting more. My body is confused again, and it’s trying to trick my mind into having thoughts I shouldn’t have.

As my mind begins to wake, I wonder who could be at my door. I start thinking up a list of possibilities. Maybe there’s a fire in the building and the alarm didn’t go off. Maybe there’s an emergency that only a meteorologist can help solve. I’m sure if it’s an emergency, they’ll knock again. Maybe it’s someone who doesn’t live in the building, who doesn’t know I’m in bed by now.

I sit up straight, my blanket flying off of me. I think of the letter that I left for Luca on top of the mailboxes. Could it really be him? Did he come back already just to check if I left a letter for him?

I turn on all the lights in my apartment on my way to the front door. I think about stopping by the bathroom to make sure I look presentable, but decide against it and settle for patting down my hair in front of the hallway mirror. I take a deep breath before I open the door.

I don’t know why I’m so surprised to find Jake on the other side. I should have known that it would be him. I immediately feel guilty for what I was dreaming about a minute ago.

“Sorry I’m here so late,” he says. “I had a bad day, and I just… I needed to see you.”

I open my door a little wider, letting him in. He stops at the end of my hallway, looking around the room. Knowing that he had a bad day makes me feel even guiltier about my dream, like I somehow contributed to his day being shitty, even though he couldn’t have known what was going on inside my head. I wonder if Joel mentioned I left a note for another man in the lobby.

“Why was your day bad?” I ask. I lean against the hallway wall opposite him.

He reaches his hand up and rubs the back of his neck. “Family stuff,” he says with a sigh.

He had mentioned before that he has a big family. I’ve always been envious of people with siblings, but I guess it’s not without its own challenges.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head. When he speaks again, his voice comes out in a whisper so quiet I can barely hear him. “I just want to live like nothing is wrong for a little while longer.”

I may not know what’s wrong, but I think I know how I could help him feel better. Just as I’m thinking it, his eyes wander over my body, and I remember the last time we both stood in this hallway. The spark that was awakened in my dream about Luca is reignited. Maybe this is what I need to put a stop to that dream and those unwelcome thoughts about Luca.

I step closer to him, letting my hands rest on his waist. He sucks in a breath, like even a touch as light as this does something to him. I raise up on my toes to reach him better. He angles his neck downward, and our lips meet somewhere in the middle. It’s soft and sweet, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. His arms wrap around me, his hands moving from my ribcage to my waist, down to my hips, and lower. I’m not sure when he moves me to the wall, but the next thing I know, my back is against it, and his body is pressed against mine. He doesn’t hold back this time. I can feel the weight of him pushing into me, fitting perfectly between my thighs. When he rocks his hips against mine, I can feel the shape of him.

I reach down and feel him through his sweatpants.

“What happened to taking things slow?” he asks.

“I changed my mind. Is this okay?”

He nods, breathing out a barely audible, “Yes.”

“I’m on the pill,” I tell him. “Are you clean?”

He nods. “I’ve been tested.”

“Me too.” I tug his waistband down and… “Oh, wow. That’s…”