Page 84 of Drawn Together
Of all things, that makes him smile a bit. “If we ever get out of here, you’re going to rack up more of that tab you owe me. I’m charging for the soup and a delivery fee.”
The mention of the ‘tab’ that he’s been running makes my skin heat. I clear my throat, adjust my position, and check the time again on my phone. None of it matters, though. I can’t hide from what he does to me. How just a clear view of his veiny forearms is enough to push my desire and want higher. The more I shove it down, the more it resurfaces.
“Flora would you please just—” He pulls his hands through his hair and the look is tortured. “Look— I’m sorry I kissed you. I really am. I thought maybe you wanted me to, and it was on your first date list, and I did it without really thinking.”
“That’s the thing, Fletcher. I like being a person in your life who you don’t have to overanalyze how you speak to. I want you to say everything you’re thinking. I’m glad to be there for that. But I don’t think I want to be someone you kiss without thinking.”
“What do you want to be?”
“I…don’t know. I like what we have. I like our book clubs and movie nights, and I like going to dinner with your friends…”
“They’re your friends, too.”
“I like all that. And I don’t want to mess that up. I’ve been down this road before, and trust me, it’s not worth it to ruin everything that’s perfect over. Do you not get that?”
He sighs. “How honest do you want me to be here?”
“As honest as you always are with me.”
“Alright. You said you wanted me to forget the kiss. I tried. I really did, Flora. But every time I’m in a room with you since that first night I kissed you, all I can think about is how your lips felt against mine. And God,” he curses to the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose just below his glasses, “I can still taste you.”
I suck in a breath, shaky and drawn out. I know. I want to say. I know, because every time I close my eyes, I go back to him and me against those steps with his hands at my jaw and mine at his chest. How he dipped low for me so I wouldn’t have to stretch up for him. How slow and sweet and tender he is when his own enthusiasm lies right behind that wall of restraint. I know he can taste me, because since that first kiss he gave me, all I’ve consumed is him—his smell, his touch, and his taste.
“I like what we have, too,” Fletcher whispers, stretching his legs so our feet bump and I’m forced to look up at him. “I’m not trying to force you into anything, really. It’s a crush. I’ll get over it.”
“A crush?” It feels like the word doesn’t even exist right now. Like, it’s just a bunch of garbled letters to make a random noise.
Fletcher smiles—gentle, boyish—that same wobbly one he gave me in the closet. “It’s okay, Flora. I’m still me, and you’re still you. My infatuation doesn’t have to change anything.”
“And if I say I like you, too? That it’s the same for me?”
“Then, I think we—”
“Hello? Hello? Is anyone in there?” a voice shouts from the speaker, and we both look up.
“Uh, yes, we’re still here,” Fletcher calls back, before mumbling, “Kind of hard to go anywhere else.”
“This is NYFD, we are coming to pry the doors open now, okay? Go ahead and step back as far as you can.”
I immediately sling myself against the back wall while Fletcher just slips back one step.
Sure enough, there are grunts and groans of metal being pushed, and the door is pried open to the most glorious view. Five feet up, looking down at us from the floor, is none other than Noah, standing beside five other extremely attractive men in uniform holding up different power tools.
“Is it a requirement to be good looking to work here?” My whisper must be louder than I thought, because Fletcher grumbles something beside me that sounds like ‘Unbelievable.’
Noah smiles at the man next to me. “How do you manage this stuff, Fletch?” It’s the first time I’ve heard someone call him that, and it’s so cute I tuck it in my pocket for safe keeping.
“Seems I’m just lucky.”
“Indeed. Well, let me send down a ladder, and you guys can come right out.”
Noah and his coworkers—my mouth goes a little numb when they introduce themselves and none of the names stick—drop down a ladder through the main entrance and tie it at an angle where we could climb out.
I freeze in place at the thought of slipping. Who knows what floor we got to before it stopped? What if something slipped and we plummeted? What if—
“You nervous?” Noah asks, before turning. “Fletch, it might help if you go—”
“Flora goes first,” Fletcher insists, his hand on my shoulder, guiding me closer to the ladder. “I promise you’ll be fine. I’ll be right behind you the whole time. You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
