Lisa
Slowly nodding, she moves aside so that I can enter.
I hold back a sigh of relief as I step inside, instantly taking sight of her kitchen. It's full of vases upon vases of dead flowers, causing it to resemble a 'Tales of the Crypt' dinner party. Jennie follows my gaze and blushes furiously.
"You should have said you were coming over," she admonishes. "I was going to throw those out. I just haven't been home much lately."
I look at her - finally look at her - and take in her messy hair, her pink, bare cheeks, and the oversized Superman T-shirt that falls to her mid-thigh. I can see her nipples through her shirt, and I'm almost positive she's not wearing a bra.
She's absolutely fucking gorgeous this way.
My pants suddenly tighten, and I divert my gaze, desperately trying to fight off these lustful feelings I have for the woman before me. I can't believe how inappropriate I'm being and silently curse my tactless dick.
But once again, Jennie has followed my gaze. She looks down and then her eyes instantly snap back to mine.
"Um, I'm just going to...hold on...crap." She scurries into her bedroom and out of sight, leaving me alone near the front door. I take the opportunity to gather my wits and adjust myself.
She emerges a few minutes later in a pair of pyjama pants. They're not nearly as sexy as seeing her bare legs, but this is beneficial if we're going to have a serious conversation. I'm also pretty certain she's put on a bra, which is kind of disappointing.
She stands nervously before me, a few feet away, and still seems embarrassed.
"Sorry," she mumbles. "I was a little distracted by... I just... never mind."
I've never felt such an attraction to a woman before in my life. Reeling in this desire, I shake my head and give a kind smile. "Don't worry about it, Jennie."
She nods quickly, effectively eliminating any further discussion of this topic. "Um, do you want a drink or something?" she offers.
"I'm fine."
"Want to sit down?"
I look at her living room. The rug is nowhere to be seen, and I frown as I wonder if she's thrown it out.
"Sure," I finally say, feeling much less confident than before. Not that I was feeling wholly self-assured to begin with.
She sits down first, and I take the other end of the sofa, not wanting to impose on her personal space. I lean forward and wring my hands together, noting the dampness that won't seem to go away. I'm so fucking nervous. Jennie doesn't seem much better off, but for some reason I take this as an ominous sign. A slow breath wavers as it leaves her body.
"So," she begins, apparently eager to get the conversation going. "What did you want to talk about?" She looks down at her hands as she speaks, picking and fidgeting with everything and nothing.
I sigh, running a frustrated hand through my hair. I don't have a clue what to say or where to begin. But she stares at me, her eyes pressuring, waiting for me to get it all out. And I would never, ever let this opportunity pass me by.
"I want to talk about us," I finally begin.
"Us?" Her response is weak, and I know what she's thinking - there is no us.
There never was. Not really.
I rub my face with both hands, hoping to wipe away some of this nervousness and confusion. But all I succeed in doing is smearing palm sweat across my brow.
"Yes, us," I go on. "I want there to be an us. I like you, Jennie. I care about you. I never stop thinking of you. I know our situation was messed up, but I really like the person I came to know the past two weeks. You made me laugh, you made me anxious as hell, and you made me... I don't know... different. And I like the person I am because of you."
Jennie doesn't look at me. She stares straight ahead, her brow creased with anxiety, her eyes shining. Her hands wring fretfully in her lap.
"Now that the bet is over and done with, I just want... I don't know. I want to start over. I want to get to know the real you, not just what you chose to tell me because you didn't trust me.
"I want you to trust me. I want the opportunity to earn your trust, and I want to deserve it. I guess what I'm saying is...I want to try again."
She turns to look at me, honest to God tears welling in her eyes. I want to reach over and wipe them away, but I don't dare.
"I like you, too," she finally whispers, and I feel like I'm soaring. I can't stop the ridiculous grin that spreads across my face; this is suddenly the lightest I've felt in days.
"But," she goes on, and I feel my hopes sink again just as quickly. I dread hearing her next words. "Do you really think it's a good idea? The entire time we've known each other - it's just been lies! And what I did to you...how can you even still like me?"
She looks at me, hopeless and confused.