“If you could have anything you wanted, right at this second, what would it be?”
“Well I wouldn’t want to have all these weird things happening,” I said slowly, obviously holding back.
“I already knew that. You say it all the time. But I also know there’s something else you are trying so desperately not to say,” he inched closer.
“Sometimes the things that go unsaid are the same things that keep it exciting. I wouldn’t be any fun to be around if you knew all my secrets,” I whispered. “Somehow I doubt I would ever grow tired of spending time with you. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”
“What would you want most if you could have it?”
“That’s a dangerous question,” he sat so close the air fizzled. Everything I was trying to shield from him danced dangerously close to the surface.
“Who doesn’t like danger?” I challenged.
“Did I mention how very beautiful you look?” he smirked.
“Once or twice,” I smiled.
“Can I kiss you again?” his eyes grew dark with desire.
“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. His eyes traveled over my face as he leaned in. I closed my eyes just as the softness of his lips brushed against my own.
I sank deeper into desire and the temperature in the room spiked. My hands twisted in his shirt, clutching for dear life. The back of my neck tingled as his hands found my hair. I was on fire.
Every place he touched ignited with an electric flame I’d never felt before. A pressure so intense was building, making it hard to think straight. I heard a groan in his throat and my stomach fluttered. Hesitantly, I pulled my lips away and searched his face. He sat back, chest heaving, looking confused.
“I can see now why you’re reluctant to touch me. It’s definitely intense. Oddly addicting. Does it feel that way to you?” he whispered.
“Yes. I find it hard to think straight when I get too close to you. It’s also inconvenient that you can feel what I feel. It makes it harder to hide it from you,” I shrugged.
“Why do you want to hide it?”
“Because you’ve made it clear that we’re just friends. I’m trying to respect that, rather unsuccessfully.”
“The first step in any relationship is being friends. Where it goes from there is history,” he grinned.
“You mean the future.”
“No, it’s history. It was written somewhere. Whether it is fate or dumb luck, if it’s meant to be it will be.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who believes in things like that. You’re all Carpe Diem,” I teased.
“I control what I can. Some things I would rather sit back and watch unfold,” I took a rather large gulp from my glass. He laughed.