before following him.
“Really? You have Pong? Why?”
“Cause it’s awesome!” Jack was apparently offended that Milo didn’t feel the same way.
“Finally, someone for him to play with.” Ezra smiled gratefully at me, and I looked away so I wouldn’t blush. “You wouldn’t believe how much time he spends on those damn things. Mae’s always trying to get him to go out and do something, anything, but it’s near impossible. She was so relieved when he met you and then he’d actually leave the house.”
“Well, I’m glad that I could help,” I replied timidly. It was really weird being complimented by people that were so much better than me. “Where is Mae?”
“Um, she’s out.” Ezra’s normally open face closed up a bit, and it was a familiar expression that I’d seen written on Jack’s face every time he didn’t want to tell me something. “She really ought to be home soon.”
“I just wanted to make sure Milo meets her.” I rubbed my arm nervously, afraid that I had encroached on territory they’d rather I didn’t. “I know he’d really like her.”
“Everyone really likes Mae,” Ezra grinned, and then I felt stupid. Obviously everyone really liked her, so it was a silly thing to point it.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” I fumbled. He laughed, and it was a tremendous laugh, but it wasn’t as spectacular as Jack’s. I doubted that anyone could ever match his, though, not even someone as perfect as Ezra.
“I am a lucky man.” He looked wistful for a moment, thinking of Mae, and I longed to have something like that. To have someone be filled with that much yearning at the very thought of me. It was pure, unadulterated love. Then, his expression changed as he thought of something. “Peter’s upstairs, if you wanted to talk to him.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t really planned on talking to Peter, since he had this horrible way of simultaneously making me want to run to him and run away crying. But Ezra had said it in a way where I felt obligated to do it, and part of me really enjoyed the way Peter made me feel, even if it was usually wrapped in pain and confusion. “I’ll go see him then.”
“I’m just going to wait down here for Mae.” Ezra stood by the door, watching me as I went, looking a bit like a lost puppy.
I passed through the living room, but Jack and Milo were too entranced by some war video game to even notice me. As I slowly made my way up the stairs, I was reminded of the first time I had met Peter, and the way he had glared at me from over his book. I hoped desperately that this wouldn’t be a repeat of that, but since Ezra had sent me up here, I had to believe that it wasn’t.
Peter’s bedroom door was open, and I leaned in the doorway, peering around for him. When I found him, my breath stopped and a burning flush went over me. Wearing only a pair of jeans, he was drying his hair with a fluffy white towel. He wasn’t overly muscular, but everything was smooth and perfect. A thin trail of dark hair started just below his belly button and traveled downwards, and my eyes had never been so tantalized by the prospect of what fell below the waist of his jeans. When he noticed me staring at him, he tossed his towel on his bed and just looked back at me, his green eyes shooting through me. I ached for him in ways I had never imagined. My body was literally in physical pain because I couldn’t touch him.
“I just took a shower,” Peter explained quietly.
His lyrical voice somehow managed to dampen the trance I had been under, but nothing could fully break it. He looked away and grabbed a white shirt off his chair, and much to my chagrin, he pulled it on.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I mumbled lamely.
“No, you’re okay.” He sat back down on his bed and tousled his thick, damp hair with his hand.
I waited in the doorway for him to say more, but that was a struggle. It felt like there was something inside pulling me towards him. Like there was a rope attached to my heart and someone was physically yanking on it. He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read, but his eyes definitely looked pained.
“You can come in, if you want,” he mumbled huskily.
It didn’t feel so much like I walked to his bed as I just gave in and let myself be pulled over to him. My feet seemed to glide over, and then I was sitting on the bed, dangerously close to him. I breathed in, and he smelled sweetly of apples. That was most likely his shampoo, but there was something tangy and wonderful underneath that was all him. Then, like a complete idiot, I told him, “You smell good.” He smiled the first genuine smile I’d seen him have, and it struck me heavily with its utter perfection. Then softly, he laughed, sending astounding tingles radiating throughout my whole body. I almost shivered with pleasure.
“It’s probably just my shampoo.” Peter leaned in closer to me to tell me that, is if he was sharing a secret. He was so close that when he exhaled, a damp tendril of his hair blew back and brushed against my cheek. My skin trembled expectantly, demanding more touch from him.
“Apples?” I questioned, wondering how I managed to find the strength to speak.
I knew the conversation was utterly pointless and dull, but most of my brain had become occupied by him. And I don’t mean by thoughts of him, I mean him. It was as if he’d somehow become a part of me, and I was desperate to have all of him.
“Yeah.” He smiled crookedly, and then leaned back a little, away from me.
Without any thought on my part, my body moved to correct the distance between us. I would’ve preferred that I stayed where I was, but my body insisted that I tilt closer to him. I couldn’t stand to be away from him. I knew that eventually I’d have to get up and walk away, and I didn’t imagine how that could be possible.
“Why do you hate me?” The words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t believe that I’d asked them. Inside my mind, I screamed Shut up! Shut up! You can’t say that to him! But somehow, he’d managed to cut off the blood flow to the part of my brain that controlled my inhibitions. If I wasn’t careful, I’d very quickly be confessing my innermost secrets to him.
“I don’t hate you.” He looked embarrassed and lowered his eyes. There was an awful pain at not being able to see into his eyes, but there was also some relief, like I’d be able to think a little bit more clearly.
“Then why do you act like you do?” I pressed.
What the hell was I doing? I was normally an absolute coward, and now at the worst possible moment, I suddenly decided to be brave and corner this amazingly stunning man into hating me. He had said he didn’t, but after I shamed and irritated him like this, I’m sure he would.
“I don’t know.” He looked up, staring straight ahead, but he wasn’t really looking at anything. His beautiful features stiffened to a painful mask.
“You want to hate me, though.” My voice was almost inaudible, but he’d heard me. I’d thought I hadn’t had the strength to speak, but the words kept relentlessly tumbling out.
“That’s not exactly true.” His face softened again, and he turned to look at me.
His eyes were smoldering through me, and I felt my heart pound loudly in my chest. Very gently, he placed his hand on top of mine, and I felt that same electrical surge that I had the day before, but more intense this time. Pleasure rippled through me, and reflexively I closed my eyes.
Then suddenly, he pulled his hand back, and my eyes flew open. His face was a few inches from mine, and there was something in his eyes that looked completely ravenous. They never wavered and he never moved, but when he spoke, his voice had gone into a very low snarl. “Go before I do something very bad to you.”
“You can do whatever you want to me,” I whispered, and he flinched at that.
“Go!” Peter growled.
His voice stung, but it managed to get me moving. Using all my strength, I looked away and stood up. He still hadn’t moved, but I could see the tendons in his neck and his arms standing out sharply. It wasn’t until I had started down the stairs, and I had started to really breathe, that I understood why his body looked so tense. He was using all his might not to move. That’s why he’d insisted that I leave. He couldn’t move or he’d lose control of himself.
When I got downstairs, I felt dazed and I was panting. There was a very real chance that I had just barely averted being killed. And the worst part was that I would’ve happily let him murder me. In fact, part of me still wanted to rush back upstairs and let him do whatever he wanted with me as long as I could still be with him.
“Alice?” Milo asked, sounding worried. He and Jack were standing in the middle of the living room, holding plastic guitars, but I could barely even see them. The whole world felt hazy and I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or not. “Are you okay?”
“You were with Peter?” Jack had stopped playing the game and turned to look at me. He eyed me over, and he saw something that he didn’t like. “Come here.” I felt frozen in place, so he commanded again, “Come here.”
