She eyes the couch and winces slightly when she notices my legs hanging over the edge.
“It’s not the most comfortable sofa. I’m sorry.”
I sit up fully and let the blanket pool in my lap as I swing my legs around. My eyes track her movements, the way she slowly pads her away over to the pantry closet.
Looking over her shoulder, she asks, “Do you want a snack? I have plenty.”
“No, I’m good.”
She nods and rifles through boxes, finally deciding on some sort of bar. “Are you sure you don’t want one?” She holds the bar out to me and in the darkness, I have to squint to make out the label. Something about salty and sweet.
“I’ll try it.”
She tosses it to me and like a fool I fumble the catch, and it drops on the floor. A small giggle has her slapping her hand over her mouth. Maybe being a fool isn’t such a bad thing if it makes her laugh.
Scooping it up, I rip the wrapper and take a bite that’s far too big and crumbs spew out of the corner of my mouth.
“Dewicious.” She giggles again. Swallowing, I repeat, “Delicious.”
She takes a bite of her own bar and leans back against her kitchen cabinet. The green glow of the lights on the microwave halo her in the darkness.
“I’ll … uh … get you a blow-up mattress tomorrow … well, today I guess,” she mumbles, eyeing the time on the microwave.
“I can get one,” I say. Setting the rest of the bar on the coffee table, I wipe my fingers on the blanket and contemplate how I want to broach this conversation. “I need to ask you something.”
She straightens and swipes a stray crumb off her mouth. “What?” Her eyes drop to the floor.
“The other night … the sex … you don’t feel like I coerced you, do you?” It’s been haunting me since this afternoon when it occurred to me on the plane. In the moment it seemed like we both wanted it, but I’m scared I didn’t read the signs right or maybe she asked me to stop, and I didn’t listen. If that’s the case it makes mesickand she won’t have to worry about any six months. I’ll give her the annulment right this second.
She shakes her head. “No, Fisher. It was very much consensual.”
If I wasn’t so relieved I might be embarrassed by the sigh I let out. “Good. That’s good.”
She cracks a small smile. “I’m a tad offended you think I wouldn’t have said something.”
“We were both drunk,” I explain, ducking my head. “Sometimes once you’re sober things don’t feel the same.”
She bites her bottom lip lightly. “I wanted it, Fisher. I wanted you. Even if it was the last time.”
Now that I know she was as into it as I was, it’s easy to say, “It wasn’t the last time.”
She cracks a tiny smile. “We’ll see.” She throws her wrapper into the trash and strolls past me to her room. “Goodnight, Fisher.”
“Night, Eb.”
Her door clicks softly closed behind her and I lie down again. The sleep I couldn’t find before comes easily this time.
CHAPTER 21
EBBA
Pushing the cart,I trail behind Fisher on our way to the paint section of Home Depot. Turns out there was a Home Depot right around the corner from my condo. Who knew? Certainly not me.
I hate to admit that my view is pretty nice. His ass looks impeccable in the pair of jeans he put on this morning, along with a plain black t-shirt, and his glasses.
He already loaded the cart up with sconces for my bathroom, a new faucet for the bathroomandkitchen, another light for above my kitchen bar, and wood for the project he mentioned last night.
He hasn’t bothered asking my opinion on anything. I think he knows he won’t get it. But the annoying thing is he stills knows me well enough to pick out the exact things I would choose if I were being vocal about it.