Chapter 10: The Other Side of the Wall

I lasted until 11:40.

I'd told Will I wanted one night in my own bed.

It was supposed to be the first night of my life with a door nobody was going to walk out of.

I got it.

It was awful.

The house made every noise a house makes, and the wall by my headboard hummed with a shower running on the other side.

I had heard that shower for three years and had never let myself hear it.

I got up in my T-shirt and bare feet and crossed the vestibule.

He opened the door in gray sweatpants, with his hair wet and a dish towel over one shoulder.

"I said a night," I said.

"You did."

"It's been two hours."

"I'm available for the rest," he said, and I was in his kitchen with my mouth on his before the door finished closing.

He tasted of toothpaste.

I shoved the dish towel to the floor and walked him backward until his spine hit the counter.

"Lights," he said, rough.

"On."

"Last time was dark."

"Last time I was in a hurry."

His hands slid up under my shirt and pushed it over my head, and the overhead bulb threw every inch of me into plain view.

He looked.

Nobody had looked at me like that in years.

He looked long and slow, from the top down.

"Jesus, Claire."

"Don't stop at looking."

I hooked my thumbs in his waistband and pulled down.

He sprang free, thick and hard against his stomach.

I knelt on the cold linoleum.

His breath caught.

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

I wrapped my hand around the base and took the head into my mouth.

He swore.

His hand dropped into my hair and didn't pull, just gripped, shaking.