And I have a friend request on Facebook, too, from WhatTheMerc.
That made me grin despite myself. For real, Merc? But above all, it made me glad because he’s trying. He shows he wants to find me, meet me.
Get into your panties again, that’s what he wants, I tell myself.
But it’s hard not to recall his
sweet smile, not to remember that sense of rightness when he held me.
When he fucked me, God. That was phenomenal. My body clenches with desire at the memory, and I can’t help but wonder how it can be between us, how good it can be.
The sex, at least.
Good sex is important, right?
But sex isn’t everything. I don’t know what I’m thinking. What I want.
“Then by all means, stay,” Lin is saying. “My guest room has your name on it whenever you want to come back. Just… be careful, girl. Remember your resolution about men.”
“I do.”
“You know the drill. You know the rule. Don’t fall for him. Just don’t. Not until you’re sure he’s not yanking your chain so he can have a good time and move on.”
“Yeah.” I swallow a sigh. “Thanks, Lin.”
She’s right. No more falling headfirst into the deep. Besides, hot sex or not, I need to learn to manage my expectations. Work on separating hot sex from feelings.
I look at the phone number written on a slip of paper, in big, bold letters. Look at his friend request online.
Should I take the chance?
He’s been haunting my dreams, after all. Those dark dreams, and the hot fantasies that have me waking up writhing and tangled up in my sheets.
He still has to explain why he stood me up that time. That’s the promise I made to myself, my resolution, that I won’t let guys walk all over me again.
But I need to stop running and face him, face this between us.
I click “accept” on his request and see the information on his profile appear—photos, posts, his birthday date, where he went to school.
I study his smiling face on a series of photos featuring plenty of people I’ve never seen before. A blond girl is often with him, but she looks so much like him I bet it’s his sister. The tag reads AugWatson, so that’s a good bet.
On a whim, I send her a friend request.
Then I log off and dial his number before I lose my nerve, not sure if I want him to pick up or not. My hand is shaking, sweat is dripping down my back.
Here we go…
His smooth, low voice says, “Hello?” and I take a deep breath.
“It’s me. Cosima.”
A sigh drifts down the line to me. “What took you so long?”
And that makes me smile. “Can we talk?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He sounds tired, but I think I hear an answering smile in his voice. “I wanna see you, Cosima.”
My heart turns over. I bite down on my lower lip not to moan or ask him to say my name again. “Me too. Do you have classes tomorrow?”