Page 48 of That Fake Feeling
Ifthis is what being aroundConnoris doing to my head, thenIhave to avoid him as much as possible.
Fromnow on,I’llmake sureIstay in these rooms whenIknow he’s home.Andseeing as how he’s out most of the time, it shouldn’t be too difficult.We’vealready gone days without seeing each other without even trying.Ormaybe he was avoiding me?
Anyway, yes, that’s the plan.Bearound him only when duty calls.He’sjust a job.I’vedone plenty of jobs that were worse.Ican definitely do this.
Islide back the closet door to find the sequined red dress hanging front and center.
Iblame that thing.
Itpossessed me.
It’sthe devil’s dress.
Therewas no point in them giving it to me.Ican never wear this thing ever again.
Iturn it around to look at the back and the area below the zipper that had hugged my butt, the area that was just a couple of layers of fabric fromConnor’sthrobbing dick.
Imight have to burn it.
13
CONNOR
Fourdays sinceI’veseenRose.
Fourdays since we kissed by my bedroom window.
Fourdays sinceIbegan the battle to shake that kiss from my mind.
Butthat fake kiss was more real, more heartfelt, than any real oneI’veknown.Itwasn’t just my dick that felt it, but the very core of my being.Andthat was without tongues.Godhelp me, if they’d been involved,Imight have just thrown her on the bed in front of everyone.
Iclose the front door behind me, drop my keys in the bowl on the hall table, and kick off my shoes.
Yes, we were pretending to wait for guests at our imaginary cocktail party, then pretending to have a lazy morning in bed.Butit was also a glimpse into what it would be like to go to a real party with beautifulRoseon my arm and to wake up with her the next morning and laugh and joke with her.
Andit’s sparked endless thoughts of what it would be like to unzip her dress, slide it down her body, and kiss every inch of her skin, then do it all over again the next morning but starting with slowly, sleepily unbuttoning her pajama top instead.
Fourdays, andI’mlosing the battle to shake that kiss and these thoughts from my mind.
I’vebeen trying to keep busy.Stayingat work as late as possible, then hanging out at the bar with the usual crowd.EventhoughIwas there till midnight last night,Ididn’t get through more than one beer.Itsuddenly all seemed hollow and not very fun.
AndIcouldn’t face the thought of doing it again this evening.AllIfelt like doing was coming home.So, when my brain decided it’d had way too much of the charts and tables analyzing the viability of a new factory,Igave up on work and left early.
Idrop my bag next to my shoes and wander downstairs to the kitchen, undoing my tie asIgo.Ileft half of aChinesemeal in the fridge last night, and my stomach is calling its name.
Partwaydown the stairs, the sliding glass doors that run the full width of the back of the house come into view.
Istop in my tracks and yank my tie free of its knot.
Onthe other side of the glass, on the shaded patio,Rosesits beside the table with her long, slender, shorts-clad legs stretched onto a second chair.Sunglasseson, she’s reading.Andlooks totally relaxed, completely at home.
Iundo the second button of my shirt.
IfIgo down into the kitchen,I’mbound to catch her eye.MaybeIshould go back upstairs, order in, and leave her in peace.Sheseems to have been avoiding me and is likely not expecting me to be home this early, so maybe it’s not fair to disturb her.
Thatthought process doesn’t make it to my legs, though.Theycontinue to carry me down the stairs one slow step at a time.
Myeyes never leaveRose.Theyflit from the crook of her nape, bare where her hair is tied up, to her fingers that are fiddling with a yellow highlighter pen as she reads, to the soft curve of her outstretched thighs.
