It was six in the evening when I walked up the stairs to her apartment. I wanted to unlock the door with my key and let myself inside like I owned the place, but I didn’t have the right to do that anymore. As much as it annoyed me, I raised my fist and knocked.
I could see that the lights were on through the blinds in her window, so I knew she was home. She probably hadn’t eaten dinner yet. I pictured her sitting on the couch with the TV on, painting her nails or scrolling through her phone.
It was too late for her to be painting, not when it was already getting dark.
My knuckles tapped against the flimsy wood, the sound echoing because my fist was so dense. After three knocks, I dropped my hands to my sides and stood there, waiting for my woman to open the door and face me.
When she took her time, I knew she knew I was on the other side of the door. She was trying to fight her urge to let me in, trying to be strong and ignore me. But she wasn’t naïve enough to believe I would actually walk away without a fight. I was there now—and I wasn’t leaving.
It took her nearly a full minute to finally unlock the door and open it. Her shoulder-length black hair was pulled over one shoulder, revealing the slender neck I’d smothered with kisses countless times. She wasn’t wearing makeup, exactly the way I liked her. Her eyelashes were naturally thick and full, curled toward the ceiling. Her green eyes were bright, contrasting against her olive skin and dark hair. She was in a long-sleeved sweater that reached her knees, with a pair of white tube socks on her feet. She didn’t have any bottoms on, and I imagined what kind of panties she wore. Maybe a black thong or a lacy bikini bottom.
She shouldn’t have answered the door like that, not if she was going to try to get me to leave.
Silence descended, and we stared at each other. My breath came out as vapor because I’d been standing in the cold for a few minutes. It had stopped snowing and spring was quickly approaching, but the icy aftermath remained behind.
She kept one hand on the door, like holding the handle was enough to keep me out. “I can’t let you in, Bones…”
“I don’t need you to let me do anything.” I pushed my hand against the door and opened it wider so I could step inside.
Her hand dropped from the handle, and she immediately looked away, knowing she was powerless against me when I was determined.
I shut and locked the door behind me, looking down at her as she stepped back and tried to put space between us. She tucked her hair behind her ear, the nerves getting to her. The sun was gone, and we were alone behind closed doors.
That meant only one thing would happen.
She crossed her arms over her chest, her shoulders rising and falling quicker now that the tension increased. An invisible shadow passed over both of us, packed with unbridled heat. We could barely stand in the same room together without feeling this surge between us. It was impossible for me to look at her without thinking she was mine.
She broke eye contact and looked at the ground, the only way to avoid my piercing gaze. “Bones, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’re just making it harder—”
“I said, I don’t care.”
She sighed then lifted her gaze to mine.
“I can’t do this anymore. We need to finish what we started. We’re both in this relationship even if we have no relationship. I have the freedom to pick up a beautiful woman and do dirty things with her in my bed, but I don’t want to. Jerking off worked for a while, but that’s wearing off. We can be in two different places, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t together. We can try to get over each other, but that’s not going to happen either. So stop fighting it, Vanessa. Let it be.”
She moved to the couch and sat down, crossing her legs so she could hide her body as much as possible.
I remained standing, looking down at her with shaking hands. I wanted to pin her down, throw her legs over my shoulder, and fuck her right into the cushions. I wanted to get lost in the passion, to forget about all the other bullshit in my life. When Vanessa and I were connected, I didn’t feel like a criminal or a broken soul. I just felt like a man…her man.
She turned away, looking at the fire in her fireplace.
“Baby,” I whispered. “Let’s see this through. You say this would never work, but I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not asking for forever. I’m just asking for now.” I stepped closer to her then slid my hand underneath the fall of her hair. I missed the way my fingers used to touch her soft hair, the smooth strands that were so easy to fist. I yanked gently, forcing her to look up at me. “Give me now.”