“Ha,” he huffs, shaking his head. “Don’t be silly.”
“I don’t believe you for a second,” I lay a hand on his upper leg, and he jumps. “So why don’t you stop lying to me and tell me the truth? Were you jealous?”
He rolls his eyes to the sky, speaking as if he has to force every single word out individually. “You know the answer. Now go back to your seat, Elise. I’m not made of steel.”
I snuggle closer. “What if I don’t?”
He makes a sound almost like a growl, and it gives me goosebumps. “Elise… don’t provoke me.”
We lock eyes, and I feel like I can see the world in them, but more importantly, how powerful his need for me is. It takes my breath away, but I know I’m drunk and too exhausted to take this any further tonight, and I don’t think Dan will ever forgive me if I make him touch me when I’m not sober. I see him swallow, his lips parting just slightly, and I know that if I don’t pull away, we’re going to kiss.
God, I want to, but he’ll be angry at himself for taking advantage of a girl who has been drinking.
Pushing all my wants and needs aside, I sigh and lay my head on his shoulder instead. He’s so warm, and he smells like evergreen forests and something spicy and masculine. I feel utterly safe.
Dan relaxes now that the almost-kiss moment has passed, and his body relaxes. I do as well, snuggling just a little closer to get more of that warmth and drift off into a quick slumber.
19
Amsterdam, May 23, 2022
Dan
Beingaround Elise is usually a test of my self-control when it comes to not kissing her senseless or ripping both our clothes off and giving into what we both desire so much. Having her asleep on my shoulder, cuddled close to me is a different sort of temptation altogether.
I want to brush her hair out of her face, and just watch her breathe. Like this, all her clever wit and irrepressible stubbornness is set to the wayside, and she’s totally at peace. I think about what it would be like to wake up to her like this every morning, all warm and sleepy. It seems like a fantasy that won’t ever come true for me.
She has been an enormous pain in the ass tonight. First, seeing her so soon after we had made declarations to get some space from each other was jarring, and seeing that she was out drinking with a friend, Tatiana of all people, also surprised me. Elise isn’t an “unwind at the bar” sort of person, and I had to do a double take to convince myself she wasn’t there. Part of mewanted to ignore her completely, but then Tatiana spotted us, and there was no such escape.
And then there was Mark, immediately smitten with her and dominating the conversation. He came on strong, leaving no question as to what his intentions were with Elise, and she had loved it, which was strange for her. I half expected her to tell him to leave her alone, but instead, she batted her eyelashes and leaned into him. I felt my blood boil.
All of that was worth this, though.
Intoxicated or not, I’m glad we didn’t kiss a few minutes ago, either. As of right now, we haven’t broken any rules or crossed any lines, so there is nothing about this time spent together that I can feel guilty about later. We could be any old pair of friends, going home after a night out. I’m protecting her, even, from getting lost or going home alone and getting sick.
We come to a stop in front of her apartment, and I tip the Uber driver before waking Elise.
“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home. Let’s go.”
It’s difficult for her to rouse herself, and I have to help her out of the car with both hands. Once her feet are on the concrete, she wavers, holding onto me for dear life.
“I’m so dizzy,” she mumbles, still half asleep.
“I bet. You drank way more than you're used to. Here, I’ll help you upstairs.”
It takes some effort, but I get her to the elevator and up into her flat, flipping the light on as quickly as possible so she doesn’t crumble at my feet. It feels strange, being in her apartment this late, with everything darkened.
I know her flat well enough to find the bedroom, and I help her to sit on the edge of the bed. She’s wobbly, but at least she complies easily, balancing herself with her hands on the mattress behind her.
I have to wrestle my mind to keep it in appropriate places as I lower myself to my knees and slip her heels off her feet. There are so many other things I would like to be doing in this position, but taking her shoes off was not on the wishlist. I have her rotate, so her head is on the pillow, and she gives me a soft smile. Seeing her in the bed in front of me is almost too much, but I keep my cool enough to gently kiss her forehead before backing up.
“Get some sleep, El. I’ll call and check up on you in the morning.”
“Wait,” she calls, just as I reach the bedroom door. “Can you help me take my jeans off?”
My heart thumps hard in my chest. Why would she ask me that, now of all times, when I can’t touch her no matter what? “I don’t think you want me to do that.”
“I can’t get them off,” she whines, as she tries to push them down. “And they’re so uncomfortable.”