Staring at the bottom of my glass, my body shivered without warning. I thought back to Brady and the rush of the restaurant around me faded away.
Lately, he had grown bold, never avoiding a situation where he could be close to me. His fingers would brush a hair from my cheek, with a thumb he'd wipe my face for smudges that half the time I think he made up. I hated how each touch took my breath away.
He'd also upped the nudity, the AC in our apartment seemed ineffective in forcing him to wear a shirt around the apartment. Being home became torture. Brady doubled his time there and I halved mine to keep myself sane. I jumped at any reason, any opportunity to be somewhere else, somewhere he wouldn't be.
Two weeks of teasing torture. No guy that I'd met before could play with me like this.
