Touch Me - A Forbidden Romance

He walked into the living room when she went into the kitchen. The couches were new, gray with white and yellow flowers all over them. There was a light yellow rug under the glass coffee table, a few floor lamps, and the pictures on the wall were black and whites of her mother and father, and who he assumed were her friends from college. But one picture piqued his interest and even had his heart racing a little.

Walking up to the bookshelf, he picked it up, and the longer he stared at it, the more his body tightened. It was a picture of him and Freya the day she went off to college. He remembered that day well, remembered everything about it, in fact. She was smiling at the camera, and he had his arm wrapped around her. Meghan had been the one taking the picture, and she’d bitched the entire time. Fuck, she was such a bitch to both of them, but to Freya especially, and he hated her for that.

He smoothed his finger over Freya’s image, her sweet, young face, the fact she’d been so broken back then.

“Is it weird I still have that on display?”

He set the picture back and turned to face her. She held two glasses of what he assumed was lemonade. “Is it weird that I like the fact you still have that?” He said it like a question, but he was teasing her … mostly. He did like that she had it. Elijah walked up to her and took the glass she held out for him. They went over to the couch and sat down, and for a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

“I like what you’ve done to the place.” He hadn’t realized how clichéd it sounded until the words were out of his mouth. “You’ve really made it your own.”

“Thanks.”

He looked over at her and saw she was smiling. She looked around the room, brought the glass to her mouth, and took a sip from it. He watched her lips curve around the rim of the glass as a drop of condensation moved down the glass and dripped onto her chest.

Fucking hell.

When he lifted his gaze back to her face and saw she was watching him, he was embarrassed for the first time in his life. Yeah, she’d just caught him being an asshole and checking her out. He should apologize because that sure as hell would have been the right thing to do, but then again, that would mean he’d admit to being inappropriate, and he didn’t want it to be uncomfortable.

“Why did you really come by today, Elijah?” she asked, but it was spoken softly without accusation in her words. “Not that I don’t like spending time with you, because I do.” She smiled. “I’m just curious.”

She had every right to feel a bit weird that he was here in her living room, drinking lemonade after all these years. He hadn’t tried to contact her after that first time, and although he thought about her, work and life had gotten in the way.

It was a shitty excuse.

He set the glass on the table, leaned back on the couch, and stared at that picture of them from four years prior. “I thought about you a lot when you were away. I wanted to call, but I guess shit just got in the way of what I really wanted to do.” He looked at her then. She’d shifted on the couch to face him fully.

“I wanted to call you, too. I thought about you a lot, wondering what you were doing and how things were.” She looked down at her hands on her lap. “I read about you in those big-name papers, though, and knew you were doing well.” She lifted her head again. “Things were just busy and hectic for both of us.”

“I know. It’s easy to let life get in the way.”

She nodded. “I’m really glad I came back, and we ran into each other again.” She sounded nervous again, but it was understandable.

He was nervous too, and the way she was moving slightly on the seat, as if she couldn’t control her nervousness, told him this attraction wasn’t just one way. Right now, her cheeks were rosy, her pupils dilated, and her mouth slightly parted. Did she realize that these little telltale signs made him feel like a beast ready to pounce and take down its prey?

And she’s the prey, the vulnerable, innocent prey you want to devour like a damned depraved beast.

They stared at each other for several seconds, neither speaking, but the heat and electricity moving between them was tangible. Yeah, he knew if he stayed here any longer, he might do something that jeopardized their friendship, even if she was acting like she wanted him.

Elijah didn’t want to push things or cross that fucking line, but he also knew he wouldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t.