It's Never Easy

Chapter 8 - Arianne

I sleep better than I have in years. Over ten hours of uninterrupted bliss. And I know it has everything to do with the man sleeping across the hall. That kiss had me buzzing with adrenaline, my lips tingling and a smile fixed on my face for the rest of the night. I felt warm, and safe, and content. I was so delirious from that kiss that I nearly asked Astor to join me in bed when we got home, all I could think about was being wrapped up in his strong arms. But he was the perfect gentleman, walked me to my bedroom door, kissed me on the cheek and said goodnight. And then I passed out, barely waking up before lunch.

When I do get up, no-one else is around, so I make my coffee and head back to do some studying from bed. I've just gotten comfy when Lena stumbles into my bedroom, face-planting the bed.

"Does a deputy captain count?" She mumbles into my duvet.

"It's your challenge, you make the rules."

"Initially, I would say no. I want only true captains. But, he's also the best sex I've had so far."

"The best? Really?" I looked down at her, with great effort she finally turns her head to look at me.

"Yeah, the best because he actually made me come. Twice actually."

"Impressive."

She toes off her heels and they clunk to the floor. "But now I want to sleep with him again. But that'll put me behind-" She continued on, and for once, I realised I had a story to tell from a night out.

"I kissed Astor." I blurt. She sits up abruptly and gasps loudly.

"Holy shit!" After the initial shock, she sits back on her heels and surveys me, suddenly all serious. "How drunk were you?"

"I wasn't. I had like two drinks."

"How drunk was he?"

"Uh," That question gives me pause. How drunk was he? Is that the only reason he kissed me? Because I was drunk and throwing myself at him? He's never actually initiated anything around the flat...Oh I am an idiot for thinking it meant anything more. "I don't know. He can't have had that much..."

"But you wanted to do it?"

"God yes, I wanted it. But now you've got me wandering if he was just drunk and horny."

"Are you kidding? He has only had eyes for you since he got here."

"Has he?" I ask, coyly.

"Girl, he has not been subtle about it." My cheeks pinken at the truth of her words. I could lie and say I had never noticed but its impossible not to. Every time we're in the same room together I can feel his heated gaze follow my every move. I just don't understand why. Why do I fascinate him so much? Why didn't he go for Lena who has far less psychological problems than me? Who won't have a panic attack every time he touches her.

And yet...I didn't have a panic attack last night did I? I wasn't drunk, I had total control of all my faculties and yet, the thought that he might attack me didn't cross my mind once. Instead, all I could think about was how desperate I was for him to kiss me, touch me, in anyway. I craved him after barely seeing him all week. And he wanted it too. I could tell by the way his eyes focussed on my lips and the way his fingers twitched at his side, as if desperate to touch me. But he didn't touch me. Not until I initiated it. Because he is fucking perfect and he knew I didn't do this kind of thing and he didn't want to trigger me.

Fuck, I've only known him a week and yet he was more kind and considerate to me last night that any other guy I've met at uni. But I have only known him a week. Lord, I need to speak to my therapist.

"And was it good?" Lena asks, pulling me out of my spiral. I can't help the huge grin that takes over my face.

"I have never been kissed like that before. It was incredible."

"And no panic attack?"

"I was too distracted by what his mouth and tongue were doing to me. No time for a panic attack." She laughs and flops back on the bed. I lay down next to her, pulling the blanket up over us, hiding from the world, just like when we were kids.

"So I guess therapy works," She says quietly, "Who knew?" I mean, I'm not sure therapy had anything to do with me being able to kiss someone without having a panic attack last night. I'm pretty sure it has everything with the very specific six foot Canadian down the hall and the weird connection we have.

"Maybe you could try it?" I suggest.

"Why do I need to go to therapy? I'm not traumatised." She bristles and I cringe.

"I just meant it might be good for you to talk to someone, you know, about Dad." She rolls her eyes.

"That's what I have you for." I laugh it off with her. She'll speak to someone when she's ready. She stays with a little longer, updating me on her night and the amazing sex she had the deputy captain of the hockey team. She's barely been gone five minutes when I hear footsteps approaching my door again.

"Can I join you?" Astor calls through the door.

My mouth had said, "Yes," before my usual trauma response could think about the consequences a letting a man into my bedroom. He kept the door open, but joined me on the bed, sprawling out beside me, resting his head on his hands behind his head, so casual. I close my laptop and turn to face him, pulling my knees up to my chest. I wait for him to begin, he looks nervous, crossing an uncrossing his legs and pulling at his earlobe. I want to reach out and take his hand, soothe him, but I refrain.

Finally, he starts talking. "I wanted to, I don't know, apologise? For last night. I know you said you weren't drunk-"

"I wasn't." I interrupt, needing him to know that, and needing clarification myself, "Were you?"

"No! But still. I know you have rules and boundaries and I crossed them, so I'm sorry."

"I'm not." He becomes unnaturally still next to me. "I mean, I liked it." He doesn't say anything. My cheeks heat and the air gets hotter and heavier the longer the silence stretches on. Fuck, does he regret it? Did he not like it? Did I make up this stupid connection between us?

"You're not?" He props himself up on his elbows, surveying me carefully. "Because I don't regret it or anything. I just wanted to check in with you, make sure you're okay."

"I'm okay."

"Good." He says. Slowly and without breaking eye contract, always making sure I was okay, he reaches out to take my hand, gently massaging my palm with his thumb, it feels so good. "Because I would really love to do it again."