“You sure about that?” she asked, and I was relieved to hear the teasing note in her voice. “I’ve been known to give you a hard time.”
“I don’t mind.”
She laughed, the sound full and rich. “Really?”
“Really.” I nudged her with my knee. “It’s nice. I like being friends. I’ve missed just hanging out.”
God, I might as well turn my balls in now. What was wrong with me? This shit just kept coming out of my mouth, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
“I missed hanging out, too.”
“See? We can do this, right? Be friends.” I just had to keep my dick under control. So far, so good.
“True.” She tucked her legs up to her chest, her body curling up into a little ball. She looked so comfortable, so perfect just sitting there. I shifted on the couch slightly, my leg brushing against hers. Okay, yes, maybe I did it on purpose, but I couldn’t resist.
Besides, as long as I didn’t kiss her, as long as I didn’t run my hands under her sweater, caressing her skin, stripping that sweater off, all would be good.
I could do friends. Especially if it meant I could touch her. Even just a bit.
Maggie
THE SECOND HIS LEG brushed mine, a wave of heat spread through my body. It was weird. I was still annoyed about the girlfriend thing, still pissed at him on some level. At least I had been. But now, sitting next to him on the couch, I didn’t really care. There was something comfortable between us, underneath the tension and the awkwardness. It had been there last year when we’d barely known each other. It was the thing that made me share more with him than I did with most people.
I could be myself with Samir. I’d missed that. In between the butterflies and the nerves and the desire to pull out my hair, there were these moments when I felt peace. Maybe the sex stuff just complicated things. Maybe we were just supposed to be friends.
His leg was still there, resting near mine. Samir’s face was turned away from me, watching the TV. Did he realize where his leg was? Did he even care?
Was this in the friend code? I had no idea what the rules were for a guy you were friends (ish) with, then slept with, and were then friends with again. But then again, I wasn’t the one with the girlfriend. Even though I knew it was wrong, it felt too good to walk away from. I wouldn’t move closer, but I wouldn’t pull away—
“You look really uncomfortable,” Samir said, a smile tugging at his lips.
My body was contorted in a weird angle, my leg the only part even close to him.
“I’m fine.”
He sighed, raising his arm to the back of the couch. “Come here.” He gestured to the space beside him.
“I’m okay.”
“I promise I can stand you sitting next to me. We’re friends right? Friends can lie beside each other on the couch and watch movies.”
I pulled a face.
“They can. Come on. Just think of me as Michael. You’d lie next to him.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be worried about Michael getting turned on by me sitting next to him.”
“I can behave,” he protested. “Come here.”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew by now that I couldn’t control myself around him. I knew staying away from him was in my best interest and his. I knew better than to let myself get close to him, than to let him inside. And yet, as hard as I tried to resist, he was like a magnet pulling me closer. He made me reckless, and I’d never been reckless before him.
I shifted on the couch, moving my body closer to his. He closed the distance between us, tucking me against his body like a puzzle piece snapping into place.
“Comfortable?”
Not even kind of.
It was the worst kind of agony. I was close enough to smell his cologne, feel his strong body beside mine. His breath tickled my ear. His hands hovered dangerously close to places that burned for him. He was so close—and yet so far.
“Yep.”
He pulled me even tighter against his body, a sigh escaping his lips. We both stared at the TV, neither one of us speaking.
There was nothing to say. We flirted around a line, dipping a toe or two over and then jumping back again. We played with fire, dancing on the precipice of something we couldn’t come back from.
I was so afraid I would fall.
CHAPTER TEN
Samir
“WHY ARE YOU being so weird?” Fleur asked me in French.
Most of the time we spoke in English at school—but sometimes, when she wanted to talk to me about something important or private, she switched to French.
I moved down the hallway, my strides impatient. I wasn’t in the mood to get harassed by Fleur. It was the second week of classes and things were still a mess with Maggie. I was still a mess.
“I’m not being weird.”
“I’ve barely seen you all semester.”
“School has been back for a few weeks. It’s hardly been ‘all semester.’”
“Well, I didn’t see you much this summer, either.”
I’d tried my best to check in on her, but much like my life, my summer had not been my own. “I told you, I was working for my dad. We couldn’t all spend the summer on a yacht in the South of France.”
I was being an ass. I was pissed off and taking it out on her, which wasn’t fair. I couldn’t seem to control it, though. This gnawing frustration had been building, and was infinitely worse after seeing Maggie in the common room. I’d thought allowing myself small doses would be enough. Turned out it only made things worse. Like a junkie, I craved more.
“You seem on edge. Snappy.”
“I’m not on edge.”
Okay, maybe yes, I was a little on edge. I’d been chain smoking like a maniac, and tension coursed through my body.
“You look like you need to get laid.”
I froze in mid-step. “Excuse me?”
Fleur fisted her hands on her hips. “You do. You definitely look like you’re hurting for it.”
“Jesus.”
“Well, you do.”
“I’m not hurting for it,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “I can get laid any time I want.”
Total fucking lie. Maybe I could get laid anytime I wanted. Just not by the only girl I wanted to lay.
“I take it the girlfriend doesn’t put out.”
“It’s not like that. Just drop it, okay?”
“Fine, if you’re going to be a girl about it.”
“I’m not a girl,” I protested. “I just don’t feel like taking about my sex life right now.”
Fleur smirked. “Trouble in paradise?”
She had no idea.
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it. I have class in like five minutes and then I’m hanging out with Omar.”
“I feel like you’re avoiding me.”
“I’m