It Started with a Kiss

A grin grows, but she restrains it before it gives too much away. “Got it,” she says like the sly devil himself replied.

The cab pulls to the curb, giving me a reprieve from this heavy conversation. We head inside like we’ve done many times. It’s not been hundreds, but it’s been enough for the doorman to remember her. How could he not? She’s unforgettable. He tips his hat. “Evening, Ms. Marché. Mr. St. James.”

“Happy New Year, Paul,” Marlow and I say in unison. The sound of her heels against the marble floors trails along with us. I reach my hand out, and she takes hold, clasping mine without a glance ever exchanged. We work on instinct and the gravitational pull that keeps bringing us together.

It’s a pull I don’t want to fight anymore.

I wonder how she feels?

We ride the elevator in silence, but a tension builds while our eyes are fixed on each other’s in the reflection of the mirrored door. She drags the tips of her fingers across her collarbone and then bites her lip. Her chest rises and falls with each breath.

Fuck.

She’s so fucking gorgeous I’m tempted to take her right here. Too bad our every move is being filmed in this elevator. I appreciate the security all other times.

Gripping the railing behind me with my other hand to keep myself from pulling her in for another kiss to that lip she’s currently biting, I will the elevator to move faster.

It’s the first time her eyes leave mine. She whispers, “I’ve been thinking,” and looks at her shoes.

“What have you been thinking?” It’s then that I notice she’s holding the railing behind her like I am. I loosen my grip, stretching my fingers.

Just when her gaze rises, the elevator stops, and the door slides open.

I glance at her at the same moment as she looks at me. She leaves me trying to read her mind when all I want to do is kiss her again. I hold my hand out, and as soon as she takes it, we bolt down the hall together as if we’ll find any answer we need down here.

I have my keys out and am unlocking my door as soon as we reach it.

We both take a breath, but doors and keys, hallways, or even privacy don’t matter at this point. The buildup consumes us quicker than a breath can be exhaled. She’s against me, her lips on mine, causing my back to hit the wood door with a thud.

I take her in my arms and lift her, pivoting inside the apartment. With our lips locked, this kiss feels better and more intense when there’s a different intention in mind. Sure, I want to fuck her, but I also can’t wait to take her out on a date.

Kicking the door closed, I set her down and am quick to lock the bolt. But then I stop. Through heavy breaths, I cup her face, and ask, “I want to know what you’re thinking. I always want to know what’s on your mind, Marlow.”

Her breathing is jagged, and her lashes flutter as she looks up at me. “You do?”

“I do.”

“I was thinking,” she starts but then pauses. Staring into my eyes, she’s consumed by emotion, the storm turning her brighter blues cloudy and gray. “I have so much on my mind, but I don’t want to think about anything else.” Her arms tighten around my neck, and she places a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Just kiss me and make it all go away. Okay?”

She always wears a brave face, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s just for show. Cupping her cheek and then running my fingers into her hair, I whisper, “You can always talk to me. You know that, right?”

“We’ve never been those kinds of friends, Jackson. Are we friends at all? Or just friends by association?”

“Sometimes,” I admit, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be more with you.” I can’t say we were friends in college or even after graduation. Still, something over the past year changed—our patience with each other, or even Rad and Tealey eventually getting together—and suddenly, we were the only ones not dating. A lot of whiskey, a star-filled sky, and the sound of the waves became foreplay. We made a deal. We’ll tell no one, no getting our emotions involved, and only have sex until we meet someone else more appealing.

No one else more appealing came along, so we became a regular thing. So I’m not sure what we are anymore, but my guess is that we’re caught in the middle of the friends we are now, the acquaintances we were at best in the past, and a committed relationship. Purgatory.

Gliding my other hand along her ribs and tilting my head down, I kiss one corner of her mouth and then the other. “We’re friends. More than.”