Sophia
Holy shit.I’m completely out of my element here. It’s a good thing I had a few more drinks than normal at the party. Other-wise… I wouldn’t have the courage to be as forward as I am.
It took him so long to come back here, I thought he’d forgotten about me. Now he’s lying next to me and I’m not sure what to do. Showing him how much I want him should be easy, but it’s not. I haven’t been with anyone since Dawson. Swearing off guys will do that to a gal. I need him to know, though.
“Are you surprised?” My voice is high and squeaky. Not exactly the tone I’m going for. It’s definitely less seductive and more scared out of my mind.
He nods, unable to say anything, or maybe he doesn’t trust his voice. His throat bobs as he swallows. “Very,” his scratchy voice meets my ears, and I melt. At least I know he’s as nervous as I am.
Leaning over him, I press a kiss to his cheek. The stubble tickles my lips and I’m shocked to find I actually like it. Dawson was always clean-shaven. Even when we’d have sex at night, he would go “clean up” before he came to bed. It was weird. No weirder than him popping into my thoughts as I’m trying to seduce my boyfriend.
Shoving those thoughts away, I kiss Adrian’s neck. His breaths come out faster, and his heart is racing beneath my palm. His reaction turns me on more than I thought possible. My lips trail down his body. Collarbone, chest, and these lickable abs are the only things I focus on. Who in the hell has muscles like this on their stomach? I feel flabby compared to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Looking up at him, his eyes are trained on me. Nothing else matters to him, only me.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” His voice is a whisper in the quiet room. He pulls me up until I’m face to face with him. I shake my head and try to look away, but he doesn’t let me. He cups my face and presses his mouth to mine. “You are stunning, and I am going to show you just how much.”
* * *
I never want to leave this bed. Well, maybe for my own bed. Adrian’s apartment is nice, but it doesn’t feel like home. There’s a part of him missing from this space. I can’t put my finger on why. It’s just a feeling I have. He lost a part of himself somewhere and I hope he finds it again.
He’s in the bathroom, cleaning up after making love to me. I can’t help but notice the difference between him and Dawson. Adrian took his time, bringing me close to the edge and pulling back. Teasing me and constantly making sure that I was okay. Never letting himself be the focus, it was always on me. Dawson on the other hand hardly made sex enjoyable for me. He’d do whatever it took to get off, and not worry about me. Those times alone should have showed me how selfish he is, and how little he cares about me. Instead of seeing the truth behind all the pretty words, I let him continue to use me like his own personal play thing.
A phone pings and I sit up to rummage through my pile of clothes on the floor. I know that stupid thing is over here somewhere. Though, I could have sworn I put it on silent. I didn’t want tonight to be interrupted by anything. I finally find it in the pocket of my dress. The screen is black and there aren’t any indications that a message came through. It must have been Adrian’s but who would be texting him this late at night? The only people I’ve ever seen him talk to are the girls at the shop. I know they are busy with their own boyfriends, and it can’t be them.
Part of me wants to see who is texting him. It would be a huge invasion of privacy, though. If I start obsessing over who he's talking to, I'm no better than Dawson, and he’s the last person I want to be like. When another text notification comes through, curiosity gets the best of me.
I have one foot on the floor, and I'm searching through the piles of blankets on the bed for a shirt to put on when the bathroom door creaks open. Adrian must see something in my expression when he looks at me. "Is something wrong?"
Panic over almost being caught doing something I shouldn't be doing grips me. My palms are slightly shaking and my heart is beating so hard, and loud, I'm sure he can hear it on the other side of the room. "No, I was just looking for something to put on. I'm cold."
He rummages through a drawer, and pulls out a clean shirt. "Are you sure?" He walks to the bed, and sits down beside me.
"Yeah," my voice wobbles.
"Lift up your arms," Adrian unfolds the shirt in his hands and slips it over my arms, then my head, before pulling it over my exposed body. "Was this," he waves at the crumpled blanket on the bed, "too soon?"
God, here he is being so kind and considerate. Making sure that I'm okay when I was seconds away from betraying his trust. "No, not at all. I'm pretty sure I'm the one who instigated it." I force a smile onto my face. He doesn’t realize that it’s not a real one, though.
"Good, because I don't regret one minute of it. Being with you is like finding my way home again."
"Why do you say that?" The apartment is silent, except for the air conditioner turning on.
He grabs my hand, turning it until my palm is facing up, and places a gentle kiss in the center. "I was lost for a long time after leaving Miranda. I questioned my perception of the things that happened, and realized that I was only a commodity to her. A phase she was going through before meeting her ideal person."
This is my opening to find out why he never told me he was engaged before. "So, I guess things were pretty serious with her?"
He laughs, but there's no amusement behind the sound. It's bitter and full of self-loathing. "Yeah, you could say that. At least, they were for me." He takes a deep breath, readying himself for whatever he is about to say. "She approached me at a bar, and I gravitated toward her immediately. We began dating and I changed my entire lifestyle to suit her."
"But you were still tattooing, right?" I can't imagine him ever giving up the one thing he loves for somebody else. It's something I would never ask anybody after having it demanded from me. Losing yourself to what you think is love is like dying a slow and painful death.
"No, I never gave up my job. But I changed my apartment, what I wore, and my focus. It all became about her, and after a year of dating I proposed to her." He’s staring at me, but not really seeing me. Focusing on getting everything off his mind. He's doing what needs to be done in order to protect himself from whatever I might say. "Things were fine, at least I thought they were. After being together for another year, without any mention of a wedding date, she began pulling away. Always starting fights with me because of my hours at the shop, working late, and being just downright bitchy. Charleigh and Bianca saw the shift in me and were not happy about it. If it wasn’t for them, I might have given up everything for her.”
"I'm sorry she tried to change you." It's a feeling I know all too well. Being told you aren't good enough, or that what you're doing isn't acceptable. It's no way to go through life. It’s no way to live your life. Forcing yourself to be someone else’s ideal partner. It makes life boring and shuts everyone else out.
"It's my fault. She never came out and asked me to be any different than what I am, but I did it anyway out of fear of losing her. It's why I was so reluctant to form any sort of relationship with you when you started working at the shop. My strong attraction to you was similar to what I felt when I met her, and I didn’t want to give myself up again. But you were different. Someone I could see a possibility with.”
It's completely understandable because I was leery of him as well. The instant attraction and butterflies in my stomach, along with the intrigue of Adrian, forced me to long for him from afar. And now that Dawson could potentially be creeping in the shadows of my life, it's probably the worst time to consider a relationship. “I get it. It was the same with Dawson. I lost myself to him with each demand he made. I was stupid for pushing away my family and friends because that’s what he wanted. I allowed this person to drag me down to the pits of hell within my own mind, and it took me a long time to recover. I’m glad you told me about her though. When you mentioned her in the car, I was worried that you might still have some sort of feelings for her.”
“Not in the slightest,” he laughs, “she’s history and has been for a while.” He moves the comforter around, making room for us to lie down. “Do you want to stay the night?”
“It’s almost morning,” I point to the clock he has on his nightstand. It’s weird seeing one there because most people rely on their phones to wake them up. “But… there’s no other place I’d rather be.”
He pulls me down, and within seconds my back is to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. A wave of peace flows over me. This is exactly where I’m meant to be. It may be fast, and I really don’t care. Love doesn’t follow a timeline. It finds you when you least expect it, and throws your whole world off balance.
I snuggle deeper into his embrace. “Oh, someone sent you a text message while you were in the bathroom. I thought it was my phone but I didn’t have any notifications.” I hold my breath, waiting to see what his response will be.
“That can wait,” he strengthens his hold on me, securing me to him, “all that matters right now is you, right here, in my arms. The world could be burning around us, and I wouldn’t give a damn.”
Rather than argue with him, I bask in the feel of him against me. Knowing without a doubt that he’ll still be holding me against him in the morning. Accepting his drink offer last week was the best decision I’ve made in a very long time.