Almost Close Enough to Touch

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This story was written in August 2020 and it is set in August 2020. Social distance rules apply in this world. All characters are over 18.

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“Do you ever think about that night?”

I regretted it as soon as I said it.

“What night?” she asked.

“You know. The night we…” I couldn’t say it.

“Oh. That night.”

I could hear her smile in the dark, even from six feet away. That was a good sign. We hadn’t talked about it since maybe a week after it happened. So much had changed since then, and it hardly mattered how she felt since we couldn’t touch each other. But I still had to know if she wanted to – I couldn’t help it.

“Do you?” I prodded.

She inhaled slowly and I held my breath.

“Of course. Sometimes.”

I let that hang in the warm summer air for a moment before asking the scarier question: “Do you regret it?”

“No! Of course not. Not at all. Do you?”

“No,” I said quickly.

“Okay, good,” she said. I looked over at her, laying on the grass on her back. She was looking unwaveringly at the stars. I let my gaze linger on her faint silhouette. I could see her arm bend above her head, her hairline, her nose, her lips, her chin, the curve of her neck. She bit her lower lip. I turned my face back to the sky.

I realized my cheeks were flushed and I wished bahis firmaları for a summer breeze to relieve some of the heat that was radiating off of me. The dry grass was poking the back of my neck.

“Why do you ask?” Her question startled me.

“Oh. I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter, since we can’t–.” I stopped myself mid sentence. The pressure in my chest continued to rise.

“Can’t what?”

“I mean. We can’t touch. Or anything. So it doesn’t matter. I was just. Wondering.”

Why did you have to go there? I asked myself. Now she’s uncomfortable. She thinks you just hang out with her hoping it’ll happen again. You’ve made it awkward for absolutely no reason. Nice going.

I opened my mouth to apologize and pretend I didn’t mean it, but before I could get any words out, she rolled onto her side so she was facing me, her head rested on her bent arm.

“What would you do if you could touch me?”

I stared at her and slowly rolled onto my side so I was facing her. Even from six feet away her intense gaze made my breath quicken.

I couldn’t help but laugh self consciously. The corner of her mouth turned up to a small, encouraging grin, and I could have sworn her eyes twinkled even in the dark.

“Um, I would, uh,” I choked out. She giggled through her grin.

Okay, I thought, Here’s your chance. Don’t fuck it up.

“I would kaçak iddaa get really close to you,” I began slowly, softly. “I’d run a hand through your hair and get close enough that our nose touched. Then I would. Lean in and kiss your neck. Kiss up to your ear. And bite your earlobe. Put my hand on your back. And I’d kiss your lips. Softly at first, so I could feel you breathe, and I could breathe with you, and just. Be with you.”

I paused to gauge her reaction. “And then what?” I guess she liked where this was going.

“I’d run my hand down your back, down your waist, to your ass. I’d pull you closer to me and kiss you harder. Kiss your neck again. Roll you onto your back and…”

“And?”

“And… Run a finger down the middle of your chest.”

I heard her inhale shakily and exhale through her mouth, exactly the way I would want her to if I could really run my hands all over her.

“I’d play with the bottom of your shirt and kiss you hard. Move my hand up your waist, to your tits. Kiss down your neck and chest and kiss you over your shirt. Pull up your shirt and kiss down to your bare stomach.”

She started to squirm, and I realized I was squirming too. I ached to be close to her.

“I would slowly, so slowly, pull your shirt up, and kiss up your body, inch by inch.”

As I said it, she traced the front of her body with her own hand. My breath kaçak bahis caught in my chest.

“And, uh. Pull your shirt up. Over your…”

As I said it, she pulled her shirt up to her neck, exposing her chest. “Like this?”

I let out a small laugh. “Yes. Like that.”

She ran a hand over her breast as my eyes bore into her. She bit her goddamn lip again.

“I wish you could,” she said, her eyes huge and piercing.

An overwhelming urge to lunge at her swept my entire body. I could do it. She was right there, wanting me. What could be so bad? Just one kiss? Just one night would be okay, wouldn’t it? It would be worth it to feel her skin on mine again. To feel her breath and smell her neck. To taste her. To hear those sounds again, the ones she made when I kissed her just right.

I took a breath and made the smallest movement towards her — but as soon as I did, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. The stakes were too high. I couldn’t risk that.

So just as quickly as I lurched towards her, I recoiled and rolled onto my back, exhaling frustratedly. She laughed loudly.

“Are you laughing at my pain?” I asked weakly.

“Yes!” she giggled. “You’re adorable when you want me.”

I groaned and crossed my arms over my face.

“Hey, come back!” she teased. I let out another involuntary groan. “Come back,” she said again, more gently this time. I reluctantly rolled back towards her, my face something between a grimace and a grin.

Our eyes were locked again. She smiled, genuinely this time. Vulnerably. My face mirrored hers.

“Someday,” she whispered.

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