Page 37 of Without Bound
“An Uber. Well, I walked to get the coffees, then took an Uber from the cafe here,” she explains.
I realize I’m still standing here with my front door wide open in only my boxers and a white t-shirt.
“Come in,” I tell her, taking the coffees from her hands and standing aside so she can enter.
I follow her up the stairs with my eyes focused on the stairs as my feet hit them, instead of staring at her ass like the last time. She reaches the landing on the second floor and looks back at me.
“Why don’t you have a seat on the couch. I’m going to run up tomy room for just a moment.” I point towards the brown leather sofa where she walks over and plops down on.
I set the cups down on the coffee table, then grab two coasters and reposition them back down. “Be right back.”
I quickly jog upstairs and grab a pair of athletic shorts and rush to the bathroom to relieve myself, wash the lack of sleep from my face, and brush my teeth. I make it back down in five minutes and see Anais staring at her twined fingers.
I clear my throat and she sits up tall, lifting her head to meet me. I sit down, leaving a few cushions between us because after last night, I need the space from her. I reach over and pick up the cup with my name on it and take a sip, thankful for the caffeine that begins to hit my bloodstream.
“So,” she starts. “I first want to apologize for my behavior. Yes, I was drinking, but I wasn’t drunk. I was just inebriated enough to lose the filter on my mouth.”
I watch as the expression on her face changes from embarrassed to ashamed. This morning she is fresh faced with only gloss on her lips. Compared to last night when she was fully done up, she looks every bit the nineteen year old she is.
The coffee instantly grows sour in my stomach and I set it down.
“But despite losing the filter, everything I said to you last night is true.” My eyes fling up to hers.
“Anais. Please stop. You don’t mean that,” I tell her.
“Yes I do. I meant every word of it.”
I sigh. “It’s a silly crush. Once you find someone your age, it’ll quickly fade away.”
“I don’t want a boy my age. I want a man. One man.” She slides over the cushion that separates us and places her hand on my knee. “You. I want you.”
I jump up from the sofa, pushing her hand away like it’s fire. “No you don’t. Stop saying that. You’re nineteen. You don’t know what you want.”
Anais jumps up from the couch much like me, and advances on me. My feet shuffle backwards as quickly asshe moves.
“Quit bringing up my age like it’s a barbed wire fence you can’t climb. Look me in the eyes and tell me that if I wasn’t nineteen you wouldn’t want me the way I want you.”
I open my mouth to give her just that, but I can’t. I want her, plain and simple. I want her despite who her uncle is. I want her without bounds.
“You can’t say it, can you? What’s stopping you? And if you say my age, I swear to God I will kick a hole in your wall.”
“Your uncle,” I say. “He’s my best friend and I could never betray him. He would never forgive me. His friendship means more to me than a young woman that will probably be on her way the moment she realizes she doesn’t want an old man who’d rather spend his evenings watching movies cuddled in bed than out partying and getting drunk.”
“I love cuddling in bed,” she purrs and walks closer.
“Who have you been cuddling with? Your teddy bear?” I sneer, trying to get her to back off. And if I can’t do it with reasoning, then I’ll just have to be a condescending asshole.
“No. Only one boy cuddled with me, but he was nothing like the bear I’d like to be wrapped up in.”
My jaw clicks and the irrational part of my brain says to track this fucker down and wrap my hands around his puny neck until the life drains out of him.
While I’m plotting the death of the boy who dared to touch Anais, she stepped toe to toe with me and pressed her hand to my chest over my thundering heart.
“Bishop,” she whispers, her eyes looking up at me and fuck, I want her. “Why don’t you want me like the other boys do?”
I swallow and reach for the wall behind me, trying to grip it and not Anais. “I never said I don’t want you. I said Ican’twant you. I can’t have you. I think you should go now.”
“Of course you can have me. I want you to have all of me. Please, Bishop. I need your hands on me.” She drops her hand and reaches for the hem of her sweatshirt, gripping the edge and slowly pulling over her head.
