Polly being sober again was the best thing to happen yet. You couldn't say you weren't stressed anymore or still traumatised, since you still had the memories from that day and you were in a little situation with a gang from New York. But, she was sober, and that made you want to cry tears of joy. You did once you saw she was getting to be her old self again, even better than her old self.
Somehow, she was even stronger than before. More confident in herself, standing her ground more sternly. You were truly extremely proud of her, reminding her everyday how much you admire her and how brave she is for overcoming everything. Especially her addiction.
With how confident she was becoming and just her old self, you couldn't help but become more and more attracted to her again. You loved her during her worst, yes, though, you weren't turned on for obvious reasons. That'd be weird.
It was the way she made a statement whenever she walked into a room, how she spoke, how bold she was. Basically, her dominance. It was attractive in your eyes, scary in others.
The last time the both of you had sex was..well..a long time ago. You refused to do anything with her when she wasn't sober, you would never take advantage of her. Besides, you didn't even have the libido to do anything. You were too stressed about Polly and the whole Shelby family to be turned on at any point. Plus, you were processing the fact you almost died. Again.
Nonetheless, all your attraction towards her had come back, and all you wanted was her hands on you again. You didn't want to push her or ask her to, for one you weren't that bold and two, you had no clue if she was even ready even though her hints were prominent that she was.
"What are you thinking about?" You were startled at the sound of her voice, your back straightening up as if you were doing something wrong. She stood at the doorway of your office, leaning on the doorframe with an arched brow. "You were staring into space for five minutes..didn't even notice me here."
Clearing your throat, you tried to muster up an excuse. "I was, um, thinking about what to get Charlie for his birthday." You attempted to lie, avoiding her stare by organising papers on your desk.
"I don't believe you." Her statement and tone caused you to look up. Now both of her eyebrows were raised, expecting the truth she believed she didn't get.
