had infinite layers to his persona, layers I’d never had the chance to peel back. He could make an entire conversation out of a simple look.
He never bored me.
As each week passed, the truth became clearer. Crewe was supposed to leave my thoughts, but his presence only grew in my mind. When I was alone in bed at night, I hardly slept because I missed his powerful body next to mine. My thighs squeezed together because I missed having him between my legs. I even touched myself and thought of him as I did it.
It was getting harder to deny the obvious—that I missed him.
A lot.
Will made small talk about our mutual friends and told me a bit about his family.
I nodded along without really listening, wishing I were home in my apartment with my vibrator—thinking about Crewe. I missed the way his scruff used to rub against my collarbone as he kissed my neck. I missed the way that same facial hair would rub against my inner thighs when he kissed me between my legs. I missed his big, manly hands all over my body, the way they would grip my tits as he fucked me at the edge of the bed.
“Are you alright?” Will stared at me with both eyebrows raised.
I had no idea what he just said. I was zoning out, picturing Crewe’s perfectly chiseled body on top of mine. “Yeah, I’m fine. For a second, I thought I left the stove on in my apartment…but I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
Will bought my story and continued talking about his aunt, a professor at NYU.
I went back to thinking about Crewe.
Over a month had come and gone since I saw Crewe get carried away on a stretcher. I knew he survived the ordeal and he was going to be okay, but that didn’t stop me from worrying about him. I hoped he was making a good recovery, that he wasn’t drinking too much, and that he wasn’t more bitter and angry than he was when we first met.
I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t think that would go over well. The circumstances hadn’t changed between us, so there was nothing to say. There was nothing to fix. I just hoped these feelings would go away.
Unless I really did love him.
Did I?
I was home on a Saturday morning when Joseph called me. We talked here and there, but never about anything that happened with Crewe. Our mutual anger hadn’t dwindled, but we put that aside because all we had was each other.
“Hey,” I said into the phone.
“What are you doing?” He spoke with a dead voice that was calm, borderline tired.
“Sitting on the couch watching TV in my pajamas.” Nothing I wore was as comfortable as Crewe’s t-shirts. I wished I’d gotten to take one home with me.
“How’d your date go?”
There wasn’t much to tell. “Okay. We had pizza then went our separate ways. I don’t think he’ll call me again.” And if he did, I would turn him down. There was no chemistry, no interest whatsoever. I felt like I was having dinner with a brother more than a possible lover.
“That’s too bad.”
I wasn’t too disappointed. “What are you up to?”
“My plane is about to land in New York.”
“Really?” A smile formed on my face even though I was still mad at him.
“I’m doing business in town. Was hoping I could see you.”
“Sure. You wanna grab lunch?”
“How about I pick something up and bring it to your place?”
I forgot that he was living a criminal life like Crewe. Crewe hardly went out meals. In fact, we’d never been on a real date. He probably had to lay low at all times. “Yeah, sure. I like Chinese.”
“That makes two of us. I’ll pick it up on the way.”
I showered and cleaned the apartment before he arrived. There was no evidence that I looked like hell, usually sitting on the couch with two open bags of potato chips. I vacuumed and destroyed all signs of my laziness. If he’d witnessed it, he would definitely crack a joke or two about it.
When he knocked on the door, I opened it and let him inside. Normally, I would hug him right away, but the memory of what he did to Crewe was still heavy in my mind. He nearly killed the man I spent half a year with. I wouldn’t forget that anytime soon. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He carried the plastic bag of food to the table. “You wanna eat now?”
“Sure.” I