Page 21 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
Another rough inhale.
God, I’d love to see her do that naked.
“Your lungs are better,” I say softly. “How about the rest of the bumps and bruises and”—I gently tap the splint on her left wrist—“this bad boy?”
“I’m fine.”
Why do I have the feeling that she would say the same thing, even if she hadn’t just survived a house fire with minimal injuries? Even if she wasn’t fine?
“Faye,” I murmur. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“No offense,” she replies quietly. “Considering you saved me and all, but I don’t really know you.”
I want to know her.
I’m desperate for it, salivating like a dog waiting for his dinner bowl to be filled.
“We can change that,” I point out.
“By bonding over game shows?”
“By passing the time and talking. You’ve been my neighbor for a couple of years now and I barely know more than your name and the fact that you work from home.”
“There’s nothing to really know,” she says. “I do work from home and I’m boring. I like staying in and reading or watching TV or having my friends over.”
“I like staying in too,” I tell her.
“You do?”
“Yup.” I stroke my fingers over the slender curve of her hip again. “My drugs of choice are cheesy action flicks and a giant tub of popcorn.”
“I make a really great caramel popcorn.”
“Yeah?”
A nod. “Yeah.”
“Can I tempt you into making it for me?”
Can I tempt you into doing other things for me?
Her cheeks go pink, as though she’s plucked the thought from my mind. “I was going to make you banana bread as a thanks for saving me.”
Sweet, adorable, tempting Faye in the kitchen wearing just an apron and baking for me.
Yeah, I know exactly what I’ll be thinking about as I stroke myself to sleep tonight.
“I wouldn’t turn down either,” I tell her, daring to stroke her hip again.
She shifts marginally, leaning into my touch, and swear to fuck, I feel that lean in my soul. “I’ll make both then,” she whispers.
“Deal.”
We fall silent, the show still playing behind us, but I can’t bring myself to focus on it. Not when Faye is right in front of me.
“You work from home doing what?”
Her expression is…interesting. It goes from embarrassed to recalcitrant in under a second.
