Chapter 24
Tim’s POV
How did everything go sideways so fast?
“No-no way am I going to be standing here, pants down, covering myself, and calling you about this. What do you take me for?” My voice sounds sharper than I want it to. I lower it, trying to explain. “Look, if you’re thinking of dating someone else and maybe getting close with them, then let’s just stop whatever this is now and see where things go for you. I just want to be honest about things. I’m not trying to hurt you-I’m terrible at talking like this.”
Her response cuts through the night, edged with frustration. “Oh, so you’ve talked about this kind of thing with other women before?” she snaps, the stress in her tone unmistakable.
“No, never.” I shake my head, a growl creeping into my voice. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever brought this up to. The first. I wouldn’t just bring this up lightly, like some cold-hearted idiot.”
Brielle breathes deeply, choosing silence as she gazes at the now-darkened sky. The fireworks have fizzled out, leaving behind only distant car horns and the occasional siren to punctuate the eerie quiet. Right now, I wouldn’t mind one more burst of color, one last explosion in the air to dissolve the tension hanging between us. I’m on edge, waiting, hoping I haven’t just wrecked a budding connection by pitching something as fragile as a casual arrangement.
Her reply comes, deliberate and measured. “A… booty call sounds fine to me. And if I do meet someone I want to date seriously, I’ll let you know, whether it leads to something private or not. Right now, I’m just not ready for anything more than this-not after leaving a bad marriage and still working through everything. I’m trying to find myself again. Honestly? I’d been debating some one-night stands, just to get back out there. But having you as a neighbor makes it easier-more comfortable. The thought of picking up strangers at a club and going home with them? It doesn’t sit well with me at all.”
Her words land heavily, layered with vulnerability. I hear them clearly-not just the surface, but the aftershocks of the pain she’s been through. It stirs something primal in me. The thought that someone hurt her, broke her down like this-it makes my fists itch to find him and land one square on his nose. It’s like the times my sisters came home sobbing after a fight or breakup, and I couldn’t stand to see them grieve.
“I promise,” I say, voice steady, “that if you’re not up for it-if you say no for any reason-I’ll back off completely. I’ll respect that, just like I hope you’d respect the same from me. Sometimes, after a brutal workday, all I’ll want is someone to sit with, maybe hold close.”
Her reply comes swiftly, her tone firm yet warm. “Deal. Communication’s key. Always say what needs saying-avoiding it just leads to bad decisions and pain later.”
Her words leave me curious, wondering what she’s holding back. Still, now isn’t the time to pry further.
She continues, returning my earlier sentiment. “And if things do get too personal, if answering a question would hurt more than help, I reserve the right to not answer.”
Brielle nods, her expression calculating, her thoughts written plainly on her face. She’s taking this seriously, grappling with the risks, clearly concerned that if things go south, having me as a neighbor might get awkward. But I trust we’d find a way to navigate anything like that if it came up.
11:08
18.09%
“When were you thinking of starting this arrangement?” she asks softly, a whisper that carries more vulnerability than I expected.
“Right now.” Hope colors my voice-it’s not subtle. I want more than quiet comfort tonight.
Her gaze flickers toward me, shy, uncertain. “Okay.” She barely meets my eyes during any of this; is she embarrassed? Nervous? Maybe both.
I reach for her hand, brush my lips against it lightly. That’s enough to make her meet my gaze, a spark of curiosity softening the bashful look. Her eyes hold so much, it’s baffling-how can someone look reserved and curious all at once?
Pulling her to her feet, I straighten, watching as she stands with me. We’re in agreement now; everything else will fall into place. The hard part’s over-aligning was the real hurdle. Now I’m ready- ready to bring this deal to her bedroom, ready to make her forget anything but tonight. I’ve never struggled in a bedroom, not once. Brielle will leave this room knowing that, with her name shouted more than once before the night’s over.
Scooping her up into my arms, I carry her bridal style through the hallway. Her mirrored apartment makes navigating easier, but I still kick the door open for effect before striding through. In seconds, I lower her onto her bed with precision and care.
Her eyes tell me everything: there’s no hesitation now, just desire. As I lean closer, I brush a kiss against her lips, tasting the lightness it brings. Her lids close briefly, as if wanting more, but flutter open again as I pull back.
Moving down the bed, I playfully tickle her bare feet, earning a wriggling reaction. Noted-she’s ticklish. A useful detail for later, one I’ll save for another time.
I crawl up her frame with slow deliberation, undressing her piece by piece. Her bra comes off with gentle movements, followed by a kiss to each breast, teasing her nipples lightly before continuing. My lips trail lower, leaving warmth where they linger, as I pull her panties free. Taking care to remove them one leg at a time, I kiss each ankle tenderly, toss the fabric toward the growing pile of clothes.
It’s her turn to pout. “Strip for me,” she teases, her tone coy. “Give me a show. Should I put on music for it?”
I’m already smiling, playing along as I perch on the edge of the bed. Off come my shoes-each one sent flying with effortlessness. There’s no damage from their landing, so I call it an acceptable toss. Socks follow suit, quickly discarded wherever they land. Rising to my feet, I unbutton my shirt, watching her closely as her eyes rake across my chest. She traces the line of hair darkening my torso -I’m no bear, but hairy enough to carry it well. Next come my belt and the buttons of my jeans, sliding them down deliberately. My wallet emerges, condoms placed on the bedside table with intent before I finish undressing.
Crawling back onto the bed, I cage her between my arms, pin her waist with my knees. She’s not going anywhere. Leaning down, I kiss her again, deeper this time-a deliberate exploration with my tongue. She parts her lips willingly, and the taste of the cheesecake we shared earlier mingles sweetly on my tongue. Her own tangles with mine in playful rhythm, as intoxicating as any kiss I’ve ever stolen.
I can feel the pull urging me forward, but I tamp it down. We have the whole night ahead, and I want her calling my name long before the first condom finds its place.
