Page 40 of The Last Man on Earth
Every so often, his knuckles brush my skin in a way that makes my stomach tingle. But my lower back isn’t happy at all, making me shift on the sand.
“My back is starting to hurt a little.”
“Cuz you old as fuck.”
The only reason I don’t turn around and punch him is because I don’t want to impale myself on his knife.
But also because I know he’s teasing.
I’m starting to get his sense of humor.
“I’m usually in a stylist’s chair for this,” I mutter, shifting again.
He stretches his legs out on either side of me. “Lay down. You can rest your head in my lap.”
I hesitate, biting down on my lower lip. I wanna say no, but the ache in my spine wins out. Slowly, I turn my body, scooting away, then lay on my back with my feet flat, knees bent, my head resting on his thigh facing the sea.
“Better?” he asks quietly.
I nod, closing my eyes as his fingers return to my head. It feels…intimate, like I’ve handed him something fragile to care for.
After a long, relaxing silence, his voice comes in, low and deep. “Why’d you kiss me last night?”
My eyes flick open, fixed on the restless sea. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I just…felt something, I guess.” I take a deep breath. “I was scared. And lonely.”
His hands still. “How are you lonely when I’m here?”
A sad laugh escapes me. “Plenty of lonely people are lonely in a room full of other people. You can even be lonely in relationships.”
His fingers are moving again. “How doesthatwork?”
I swallow hard. “I guess I’ll use myself as an example. Me and Luca.” My throat is suddenly dry. “I told you, I like him. And I do. But he’s like a lot of men. They see a beautiful woman and want access to her, but they don’t care about who she is inside.” I pause to take a deep breath. “I promise you, some of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen are very lonely.”
I feel his gaze heavy on me. It stretches for a while before he clears his throat. “So how would you want…Luca to show his interest?”
I stare at the waves. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll know it when I feel it.”
He doesn’t answer, just goes back to working carefully through my braids. Little by little, the tension slips free until he finally says, “I think I got all of it. What now?”
“I’ll take the braids down later. Or maybe tomorrow before I wash it.”
“I don’t mind doing it now,” he says. “It’s nice out here. We chillin’.”
I smile to myself. “Okay. Thank you.”
I turn my head and stare up at the sky as his fingers get to work again, patiently loosening cornrows. His touch is so gentle, it lulls me. I forgot how good it feels to have someone touch me like this. My body sinks into the sand. Into him. At some point, I drift off.
When I wake, the sun is lower, and Villain’s fingertip is brushing lightly across my cheekbone, down to my jaw. My eyes snap open.
“What are you doing?”
“Admiring your beauty,” he says without hesitation and without stopping.
I turn my head to face him, and our eyes lock in a charged moment, one in which the world narrows to the space between us. It’s an intense feeling.
I’ve never felt it before.
Finally, he says, “You ready to go back?”
