No Strings Attached | ✓ 18+

twenty-four .ೃ࿐

The next few weeks came and went, and with every day that passed I was still hoping that someday I'd wake up with little to no feeling for Clay. But, apparently that wasn't the case. 

We'd been texting more now, sending any little instance in our day that we wanted to share while we were apart, like just the other day he'd told me he saw a pigeon outside the packaging facility window and shortly after I saw a pigeon outside the shop's glass doors. We bonded excitedly, laughing at the fact that it could have been the same pigeon. It wasn't, obviously. But maybe.

It didn't help that the sex was significantly better every time it happened. We'd just about polished off all surfaces of the house now...like the shower wall, the balcony of the study, in the garage on the hood of his car, (I made sure it was clean, don't worry), literally anywhere we could, we did. It was fucking fabulous.

I had never lived and felt this good. The years I was with Gina didn't compare to anything I'd felt in these few months I'd lived with Clay. His home felt like my home now. I no longer had travel-sized bathroom items, I bought the big shampoos and conditioners, a real bar of soap and even a loofa. 

When I went shopping I brought home more clothes, even a few items for him. I bought plants and candles, pretty crystals I thought would look nice and bring good energy into the home rested on display. 

Sometimes, after we'd had sex, I stayed in Clay's bed right beside him. He'd pull me closer or he'd ask me not to leave after I'd cleaned myself up. Other times, he'd offer me a snack he had in the drawer of his bedside table and we'd end up watching a show and falling asleep. 

To say that Clay was a wonderful human being would be an understatement. I wish everyone was like Clay. He was thoughtful, gentle and sincere, all while being perfectly capable in choking me, degrading me and giving me the best sex of my life. He never made it about himself, he always revolved everything he did around me. Sometimes it even drove me mad, but in a good way. 

He was the person I'd sent pictures of my bridesmaid dress to, subconsciously wanting his approval, in which I definitely received. We'd become so much more than just roommates that fuck, it almost seemed like we were friends now. But fuck if that wasn't enough for me. 

Every day, every gesture and every little moment between us made me fall effortlessly more into him, despite how hard I was trying not to be in any sort of feeling for him. I tried to hang onto the lust I'd felt for him as long as I could, but now it barely felt like lust anymore. 

I do intend on breaking it off. I have to, right? He asked...no, told me not to fall in love with him. This was exactly what I was doing. 

The sound of the shop's bell snapped me out of my daze. I was still scrubbing the same spot on the counter as I was ten minutes ago. Shit. 

A familiar, husky voice came from my side. "What're you thinking about, love?"

I felt Clay's presence even before he said anything, of course. It was hard not to. When I turned to him, his hair looked like he'd just run his fingers through it and his cheeks were slightly tinted, like he'd been lifting something heavy. Which brought my attention to the big package sitting on the non-glass part of the counter. My eyes easily flickered up to the single, white petaled flower resting atop of it all. 

He followed my gaze and he gently took the flower from the top of the box. "I picked this for you. It isn't often you see a flower growing in a city like this...I thought you might like it." His smile was genuine and almost a hint of shyness seeped through. 

I felt butterflies swim around in the pit of my stomach as a small blush crept onto my cheeks. "Thank you," I said shyly, taking the flower from his hands. When his fingers brushed mine, I'd hoped he felt the sparks that shot up his arm, too. 

After signing for the package, Clay leaned onto the counter. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and I swear I almost stopped breathing. "I've been thinking about you all day, baby."

Baby. I could feel my knees buckling beneath me as I sucked in a breath. The nicknames always did something to me, no matter how hard I tried to deny it. 'Love' was my personal favorite, but 'baby' had me wanting to mold his body into mine. 

"H-have you?" I mumbled back, not daring to meet his eyes. Apparently, Clay had other plans though, because his hand slid from the side of my face to my chin, tilting it up toward him. 

"Of course, love. You're always on my mind." 

With that, he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. It was gentle, unlike anything that I'd ever done with him before. It wasn't hunger or lust, it was soft, almost loving. Our lips moved in sync, both of us leaning as far into each other over the counter as we could. 

Clay pulled away, his eyes filled with something I couldn't identify. He looked shocked, like he shouldn't have done that. He offered me a smile, but it didn't meet his eyes, like he was fighting something in his head. 

I decided not to press on it, but felt slightly empty as I watched him push off the counter and back toward the door. "See you later?"

He nodded in response, then smiled like nothing had happened. 

It was hard to let go of what he'd just admitted to me. You're always on my mind.