back over her ear, saying, "You get me, Ashville. You really get me."
We walked home from the Apple store. It was a bit of a distance but it seemed we both had energy to burn.
We didn't talk, didn't touch, but we walked close enough for anyone to know we were together. The precise type of together was still unclear to me.
I kept remembering the way she'd tilted her head for me in the store, granting access to her neck and quietly ordering me to that beautiful spot. There were at least ten occasions on the walk where I seriously contemplated grabbing her around the waist or shoving my hands into her hair or twisting her shirt in my fist and yanking her against me. I wanted to take the energy crackling between us and make it explode, and I couldn't say I cared if I burned in the process.
I didn't care though I stopped myself every time.
Maybe it was the lingering sting of Millie dropping me like I was the human equivalent of junk mail—what'd I been thinking with her?—or the whirlwind of my time with Zelda. Whatever the origin, I didn't trust myself to read the situation accurately. And I wanted to get this right. If I hauled her into my lap and kissed her the way I wanted to—and the way I wanted to involved no clothes and a bed—it was possible I'd lose a friend, a roommate, and assistant in one swoop.
More than all that, I could lose Zelda.
Desire could boil me through and through and I'd endure it. I'd wait as long as I had to, even if I waited forever. I knew that as well as I knew the tax code.
Once inside my apartment, Zelda leaned back against the door and twisted her fingers around the strap of her purse. She kept her gaze away from me. I watched her as I hung up my keys and toed off my shoes. Eventually, I asked, "What's up with you?"
She shook her head and flung open her arms as if she intended to say something enormous but then she looked up at me and whatever she'd meant to say evaporated as she studied me. "Do you need anything? How are you feeling?" she asked.
I need to kneel at your feet and beg for the honor of touching you.
A soundless laugh shook my chest. I'd do it. I'd kneel for her. I'd earn it, I'd kiss my way from her belly button down, and I'd kneel.
"I'm fine, Zelda." I stepped closer, tucked her hair over her ear. "What about you?"
"Oh? Me?" She ran a hand down the center of my shirt, over the line of buttons. "I'm fantastic. Like, completely fantastic."
I flattened my hand on the door at her back. "Are you sure? It's been a day."
"It's been a day," she repeated, lifting her gaze to mine.
We stared at each other for a full minute. Sixty whole seconds passed, I was certain of it.
At the exact moment I asked, "Do you want to hang out?" Zelda pointed down the hall, the one leading to the guest room, saying, "I'm kind of tired. I should get some sleep."
"Oh, yeah. Of course," I replied.
"But I could stay," she said.
"No, no," I argued, stepping back. "You're right. It's late and—"
"And we're visiting your family tomorrow," she added.
I dragged my hand down my face, groaning. "Oh my god, you're right. I can't believe I agreed to drive out there on a summer weekend."
"In that case," she said, moving toward the guest room hallway, "we should both get some rest. It sounds like tomorrow will be a busy one."
"It will be something," I muttered, staring after her as she walked away from me. "Good night."
She raised her hand in a wave and called, "Good night" as she stepped into the bedroom.
I stood there, barefoot and lost, longer than I should've. But as the minutes passed and her absence shifted from a cold snap to a dull ache, I forced myself into my bedroom. I did my best to get out of my clothes without fouling up the shoulder brace contraption too much, and once again I marched into the bathroom with the singular objective of jerking my want for Zelda right out.
I required that quick release to satisfy some of the hunger inside me. I needed it to make a dent in the overwhelming desire to consume Zelda, body and spirit. And I needed it to provide me enough momentary relaxation to get