He needed this. I knew it for a fact. I also knew exactly what to do, because I knew what I would want if I was the one on my knees. I ran through the entire scenario in my head—all I had to do was tangle my fingers in his hair and fuck his mouth. Then I could put him on my lap and edge him while he begged for release, only allowing him to come when I said so. He’d absolutely love that.
My heart raced as the seconds ticked by. Just fucking do it, I told myself. Take charge. Give him what he needs.
But I remained rooted to the spot as something dangerously close to panic welled up in me. I didn’t know if I had the confidence to take charge. The thought of trying and failing was beyond embarrassing, and I couldn’t stand the thought of making things awkward between us. And when it became painfully obvious I couldn’t give him what he needed, would we revert back to being just friends?
I had to get through this in a way that didn’t ruin everything, so I dropped to my knees, cupped his face between my palms, and kissed him. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but it was so much better than the only other alternative I could come up with, which was bolting from the room.
He returned the kiss, tenderly instead of passionately, and then he drew me into an embrace. I wondered what was going through his mind, but I was too scared to ask. He stroked my damp hair, and after a while he said gently, “You have to be up early tomorrow, so we should get some sleep.”
I nodded, and we both stood up and got ready for bed. While he brushed his teeth and dried his hair, I put on sweats and a T-shirt, then got a few things organized for the next morning. After that, I took a turn in the bathroom while he got dressed in plum-colored flannel pajamas.
We got comfortable under the thick, white duvet, and he gave me a chaste kiss goodnight. He fell asleep minutes later, and I watched him for a while before slipping out of bed. On my way through the living room, I scooped up a throw blanket that was draped over the couch, and I wrapped myself in it before curling up on a chair out on the balcony.
I stared at that million-dollar view without really seeing it. A lot of emotions churned in me, but more than anything I was disappointed in myself. I’d always known we were far too similar when it came to sex and that it was going to be a problem, but I thought we’d have more time to figure it out. Whenever I’d imagined finding Gabriel again, I always assumed it would be a while before our relationship turned sexual.
Not that I wanted us to slow down. I’d waited such a long time for this, and I wanted him with every part of me. The powerful physical attraction between us was more than I’d dared to hope for, and if it meant everything was happening faster than I’d expected, so be it.
It just meant I needed to pull myself together and find the confidence to give Gabriel what he needed. Losing him again was not an option.
The next morning, Gabriel cooked us breakfast while I got ready for work. As we sat down to heaping plates of blueberry pancakes, I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me today?”
“You’re going to be busy, so I’ll come along in a few days when you’ve settled in. Today I’m planning to visit some fabric and thrift shops, because I really want to get started on the costumes to go with your fantasy makeup.”
“I’ll pay for it, since it’s for my project.”
“It’s our project,” he corrected with a grin, “so you pay for the makeup, I’ll pay for the costumes.”
“But isn’t fabric expensive?”
“Nah. I’m the king of bargain hunting.”
I wanted to insist, but that seemed like something his ex would do. Instead, I let it go and said, “Okay then. I’m looking forward to seeing what you find.”
After we ate and cleaned up the kitchen together, he walked me to the door. I put down my makeup kit and gave him a hug, and he kissed my cheek and said, “I hope today goes great.”
“Thanks, I’m sure it will. I’ll be back around six. Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
“I’d like that.”
As I left the apartment and made my way to the elevator, worry nagged at me. I couldn’t quite decide if I was imagining it, but it seemed like we’d taken a step back from becoming a couple and returned to ‘just friends’ territory. Or maybe I was reading too much into a kiss on the cheek.