13. Xavier

CHAPTER 13

XAVIER

The week goes by in a blur of invoices, wine spills, and cheeky texts between Ella and I. Ever since I kissed her, our texts have gone from 90 percent platonic but flirty banter to something with a little more spice to it. Nothing explicit has been said, but I can feel the sexual tension within our messages. I can read between the lines, and I've been looking forward to Thursday. Now, it's finally here.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about the kiss. Everything inside me is telling me to do it again. What she wants, though, I have no idea. I'm driving to her house now and the nerves are starting to hit. You would think by my age I wouldn't get nervous when approaching these types of conversations. I'll blame it on being out of the game for so long. I really hope she isn't expecting anything more than something casual. Getting to know her has been great and if we can add a little bit of no strings attached fun to it, I think we'd be in for an amazing time.

I pull up outside of her house and take a moment to collect myself before getting out and walking to her front door. I knock twice and ring the doorbell. She must have been waiting for me because in less than a heartbeat, she opens the door and is smiling shyly at me. I smile back.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey."

"Come in, make yourself at home."

I follow her inside. She must have been burning a candle, because the house smells faintly of coconut and lime. It's delicious, just like the sight of her. She's wearing a tight cropped white tee and denim shorts. So basic, yet so hot. She heads to the fridge to get us both a drink and I contemplate where to sit. The dining table feels way too formal, especially if the conversation goes where I hope it does, so I settle for the couch.

"Beer or wine?" she asks. I look over to her and see that she's bent over with her head in the fridge, and from where I'm sitting, I can just see the underside of her arse peeking out from her shorts.

"Beer works for me," I say as I clear my throat. "The last time we drank wine I had to sleep on the couch, remember?"

She stands up and walks over to me with two beers in her hand and a grin on her face. "How could I forget? I'll always remember that the first man to sleep over in this house, slept on the couch and snuck out the next morning." She's still smiling at me as she uncaps her bottle and takes a sip.

"Hey now, I apologised for sneaking out, not that I was actually sneaking out. I had no reason to be sneaky, I just didn't want to wake you." I take a large swig of my drink and it goes down smooth. The girl has great taste in beer.

"I know. I'm only stirring you because it's fun."

"Mhmm. And as for being the first guy to sleep over. Was I really the first? Even platonically?"

"Yep. You were the first. Congratulations!" She salutes me and takes an even bigger sip. She seems nervous.

"Well, I'm sorry that your first male sleepover wasn't very eventful."

"No need to be sorry. You know my backstory, it's kind of how things go for me." We both sit in silence as her last sentence settles over us. I think back to how she reacted in the bookstore. The lack of self-confidence, the disappointment, the rejection. I know she's thinking about it, too. But I know the moment she starts to think about the kiss because she starts to fidget with the label on her beer bottle, and her cheeks begin to flush. " So…" she starts. "About the other day. The kiss, I mean."

"Yeah?"

"What was that all about? One minute I'm feeling super depressed and rejected and the next your tongue is in my mouth and you're all hot and heavy up against me." She blurts out. I sit back in my seat. She's so cute when she's flustered.

"Well, it's like I said on the day. I don't want you to ever think or feel like you aren't good enough or attractive enough, so I was proving my point. With my own attraction."

"But you've not shown any interest in me, not like that at least. What changed?" she asks. She's chewing on her bottom lip, so I know that she's definitely nervous.

"I've always found you attractive, Ella. Don't doubt that for a second. But given the way we met? I didn't want to just pursue you straight away, I wanted to give you time, get to know each other a bit. Now that we're friends, and I feel comfortable knowing you don't think I'm some creep, I thought I'd see what happens."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense."

"Did you like it? Would you… do it again?" I ask.

"I mean, I didn't not like it," she says.

I laugh. "Liar. You loved it."

She leans over and smacks me on the arm. "Okay! Yes, Xavier, I loved how you kissed me. It's the most action I've gotten in over a year and is probably the hottest kiss I've ever had. I would gladly do it again. Happy?" She slumps back down in her seat.

"Very," I say, smugly. Hottest kiss she's ever had? Yeah, I'll take that.

"So, what now then?" she asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you don't want another relationship right now."

"That would be correct."

"But you find me attractive. And you kissed me. Would it be a safe assumption, then, to say that you want to kiss me again?" She doesn't look at me when she asks this, she just keeps picking at the label on the bottle.

"You know picking at labels like that is a sign of sexual frustration." I say.

"No shit, Sherlock, I haven't been fucked in a year. I'm beyond frustrated. Now, answer my question, do you want to kiss me again?"

I stare at her for a moment, impressed with how quickly she went from shy to direct, before answering wholeheartedly."Yes. I want to kiss you again. Very, very badly. I want to do more than kiss you. It's all I can think about."

"Well… okay then. Good."

"But— "

"Ahh, there's always a but." She sighs.

"Shush. But before—or if—I do, I think we need to establish some expectations."

"What do you mean? Like, rules or something?" she asks.

"Yeah, sort of. Like you said, I'm not looking for a relationship right now, and I assume that you are." She nods. "You need to release some of that sexual frustration, and whilst I'm not the guy to date you, I can certainly be the guy who can help you with your… needs. If you want me, that is."

She puts on an act of pondering what I've just said very carefully before answering. "Yeah, I want that. I thought that might have been obvious."

"A guy can never be too sure." Because really, one can't.

"Good point. Okay… so, expectations." She takes a moment to think. "For me, I think if we were to do this, I would still need to maintain some distance. I know myself and I know that I get attached easily, so I don't want to end up hurt."

"That's good, the last thing I want to do is hurt you. So how about this: no emotional attachment, a strictly physical relationship. If feelings start to develop, we need to walk away."

"Yeah, I think I can work with that. I think as long as we communicate openly with each other, this could really work." Her eyes are lighting up as she says this. Her cheeks are still flushed, and I bet that if I could feel her pulse right now, it would be fluttering like mad.

"I agree." I put my bottle on the table and stand up from the couch. I hold out my hand, indicating for her to stand, too. She puts down her bottle, now completely label-less, and takes my hand. I pull her towards me and look down into her eyes, but she doesn't break contact like I thought she would. Instead, she's looking at me, eyes twinkling with desire."So, Ella… can I kiss you now?"

"Yes." She breathes.

So, I do.