Page 137 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

SPRING SUMME R FALLING | 137

She looks around to keep her eyes from connecting with my naked body. The
stinging and throbbing in my leg keep me from being amused. Sanya should feel
anything but shy seeing me nude. I am about to tell her that, but the comment dies
on my lips. I’m not sure if it will make her feel uncomfortable. I am a little saddened
because I cannot joke with her about it. My lack of an answer forces her to look at

me. Our eyes lock.
The pain is momentarily forgotten. I lose myself in her gaze and reminisce
about the time before the sexual tension when her eyes were open, friendly, and
trusting. The memories from our weekend together roll to the front of my
thoughts before I can suppress them.
I can’t speak. I’m scared I’ll beg her to stay or join me. I want to tell her that I
want to be her man, not just her quasi-lover and roommate. I want to cuddle up
with her at night and wake up next to her. I want to kiss her eyelids, nose,
mouth…all of her. I want to hold her hand as she tells me about her hard days, and
make love to her whenever the mood strikes. I want to protect her, cherish her, and
love her.
I nod affirmatively, zipping our memories into my mind’s hard drive. This is
not the time to confess my feelings. My family is currently gathered in the kitchen.

I shouldn’t keep them waiting. She nods tersely and closes the door.
“I’ll wait for you in my room. We need to put ointment on it. Your clothes are
just outside the door. Please do not try to be all extra man like.” I can see her hands
shaped like air quotes through the frosted glass. I smile despite my partial
melancholy. “Call me if you need my help.”
I limp out a few minutes later. I watch from behind as she folds a few shirts.
She’s standing in front of a pile of laundry on her bed. She runs a hand over each
item and carefully folds them before triaging them into the proper pile. This room
haunts me. I can’t help but wonder if she is inundated with the memories we made
here. Does she think about the things we did in her bed when she lies down for the
night? Does she blush when she sits on her couch? Do any of the memories make
her want more?
I adjust myself and push away the questions. I’d only donned my boxer briefs
and t-shirt so we can finish my knee. I am in no position to hide an erection.
Carefully, I settle onto the couch.
“I’m ready,” I announce from behind her.