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My fingers hover over the screen of my phone, his words striking me. He isn’t like the guys I’m used to chatting with, he actually knows
me. A strange feeling skitters along my skin, and I can’t decide if it’s a pleasant one or not. There’s a certain kind of safety in being able to shape others’ opinions of me, being able to create the exact persona I want them to see. Elijah knowing me like he does leaves me feeling oddly exposed.
His hair is combed, unlike the morning I brought him breakfast, and I find myself missing the wildness of his curls when he was clearly just out of bed. I bet he looks incredible after a hard fuck. The thought hits me like a punch in the gut, stealing my breath for a few seconds before Elijah’s eyes meet mine, and I force myself to smile at him and pretend excitement isn’t stirring between my legs.
He didn’t have any tattoos, his hair was a little longer and generally messier, and he didn’t have any facial hair. The man in front of me might as well be a different person with his dress shirts, sleeves always rolled up to show off the colorful tattoos on his forearms, his hair stylishly coiffed, just a hint of stubble on his cheeks and chin. Which is my type? It’s hard to say because both versions of him light a fire in me like no one else has.
As soon as we’re inside my apartment, he makes himself at home, grabbing my remote and opening the Netflix app on the TV. I watch him in awe for a few seconds, wondering what it must be like to feel so comfortable in your own skin, to go through the world with confidence and ease. I bet it’s wonderful. If I had that, I probably wouldn’t want some awkward dork trying to flirt with me either.
I gasp against his mouth, barely able to hear my own words over my pulse thundering
His words wash over me and lick at my skin like fire.
Could it be Pax finally calling to tell me how busy he’s been all week, too busy to text, but I’d better hurry up and get dressed because he’s coming over to drag me out somewhere fun. My
This should have a question mark
“I’ll catch you guys next week for our fancy dinner party.”
Who says this?
If Heisenberg’s Uncertainty principle is that you can know the velocity or location of an object at any given time, but not both.
This is not a sentence
not rowdy like I expected. I recognize a number of people I’ve seen in passing on campus or in class, and the rest look like they fit in with the same crowd. This isn’t a frat party; it’s a nerd party, and I can get on board with that.
“We’re having sex; sharing a bite of chicken isn’t that big of a deal.”
?
