Adore You | ✔

Chapter 52

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Chapter 52

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he said.

"Robbie," I said, frustrated, putting my book to the side and lying down.

"Lia." He said, mimicking me and lying down next to me.

I turned on my side to face him.

"Is it because you don't want to be friends?"

"Lia, I'm in your bed doing homework with you. Seems pretty friendly." He answered, turning to face me as well.

"Is it because you regret kissing me?" I asked, suddenly becoming absorbed by a piece of fluff stuck to the pillowcase he had his head-on.

He sighed, "You say it the wrong way."

"You speak in riddles."

"I just think for this to work; we need to have boundaries."

"This?"

"Our friendship. I'm not going anywhere, Lia."

"Boundaries like?"

"Friends have boundaries. Or do you make out with all your friends?"

"So what? Boundaries like touching?"

"Yes. Limit our touching." He had his eyes slightly closed I could tell he was tired. Despite the whirlwind of emotions in me, I wanted to kiss him again.

"Like I shouldn't touch your hand?" I asked, putting my hand over his.

"No, that's probably safe. I'm usually the main offender, anyways. You don't really have to worry about it."

"Still, I'd like to know my limits. What about this?" I asked, trailing a hand softly up his arm and leaving goosebumps behind.

"That's a bit more dangerous." He said, his voice growing faint and his eyes becoming a dark green.

"What about your face?" I asked, cupping his cheek.

"That seems safe."

I traced his lips, never taking my eyes off his. He kissed my finger.

"I guess some places more than others," he said.

"And your chest?" I put my hand on his heart and took note that it was pounding. Mine was too, but I couldn't stop. I was an addict.

"I guess that could be a case by case basis. We can play it by ear."

I slipped my hand down.

His abs were well defined. Through the thin shirt he was wearing I could feel each muscle. 

"Lia." He said sternly—a warning.

"You're in good shape," I said, meeting his eyes and ignoring his warning.

"I'll send the compliments to my coach."

I traced down the line that separated the muscles on his abdomen, "this?"

"No," he said, his face becoming increasingly distressed as my hand slipped lower. I stopped at the waistband of his underwear.

I heard him swallow hard.