Eight Weeks (Unfrozen Four Book 2)

“every time we talk, it just hurts so bad / ‘cause I don’t even know what we are”—That Way by Tate McRae

I close the door behind us when we enter my bedroom.

Sofia is still trying to fight me, but I couldn’t give more fucks right now. If she wants to strip in front of a friend of mine, she shall do so without me being around. As we established, if I am around, I will do everything in my power to stop this from happening.

I throw Sofia on my bed, her back hitting the mattress. Before she gets the chance to get up and run, I’m quick to hover over her, pinching her arms over her head with one hand while holding myself up with the other.

“Aaron, let me go.”

“No,” I bite out, my head dipping down until my lips are a breath away from hers. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Sofia?”

“With me!” She moves her legs around, desperately trying to get out from underneath me. “You’re the one holding—”

I cover her lips with mine to shut her up. Not the best thing to do, but the only thing I could think of with an alcohol-induced brain.

Her lips are the softest I’ve ever felt against mine. Earlier she tasted like cherries, now she tastes like liquor, but not bad at all. I could kiss her forever and never get bored.

I’m not sure what kind of spell she has cast over me, but I am certain I’ve been bewitched. No normal person would be this crazy about someone they’ve once known, once liked.

It’s not healthy, I’m sure of that, but I can’t help but want to have her around me. I can’t help but want to taste her on my tongue, want to feel her skin on mine, want her in my life, give her my heart and never let her leave me ever again.

I want to know everything about her. Does she have allergies? What’s her favorite color? Does she prefer eggs or pancakes in the morning? Would she rather go out at daytime or at night? Does she sleep with her hair up or down? I even want to know whether she still does a happy dance when she eats her favorite food or not.

Like I said, I want to know everything about her.

But that’s impossible if she won’t let me get to know her.

Sofia is as much interested in me as I am in her. I know she is. If she weren’t, Sofia wouldn’t still be kissing me. She wouldn’t push her tongue into my mouth, or groan at the loss when I pull my lips away from hers.

But alright, she wants to pretend she doesn’t feel the same way I feel about her, nothing I can do about that. I can, however, pretend to be just as uninterested in her.

But not now. Right now, I need to find out if she’s as affected by me as I am by her.

Slowly, I move the hand that was holding hers, down her body, aiming to get under her skirt. If she wanted me to stop, she’d have enough time to tell me. But Sofia doesn’t speak, she only gasps when my fingers graze the curve of her breast. Her breath coming out more ragged the farther my hands slide down.

My dick is pressing against my zipper, threatening to poke right through my pants. I can tell the moment she feels my erection press against her thigh because she lets out a soft breath that could be considered a moan.

Eventually, my hand reaches the hem of her skirt, my fingers following the fabric over her thigh until my hand dips underneath.

She holds her breath, eyes locked with mine the closer my fingers get to her pussy.

My fingers skim over her inner thighs, her skin so hot, I’d think I’m in Hell if I wasn’t looking into Sofia’s face. A face that wasn’t made in Hell but in Heaven.

I give her one last chance to tell me to stop, but when nothing comes, I push her panties aside and slide a finger through her lips, finding her wet and ready for me.

I don’t usually come fast, nor in my pants, but right this second, I could swear I’m about to come like a fucking teenager.

Sofia lets out a soft whimper when I circle a finger over her clit, her arms wrap around my neck for some stability. For something to hold on to when I give her a much-anticipated orgasm.

I want to give that to her. So badly, I could come from just the feeling of her pussy pulsating around my fingers when I push two of them knuckles deep inside of her, hearing the sweet sound of Sofia’s moan leave her mouth.

My lips are dying to reconnect with hers and it takes all my willpower not to give in to the temptation. Having my fingers inside of her pussy is ruining me plenty as it is, no need to kiss her through all of this as well.

I pull my fingers out of her only to push them back inside, her nails digging into my shoulders.

My thumb finds her clit, slowly drawing circles as I stimulate her. I shouldn’t have. Finding out what she feels like, what sounds she makes when my fingers are inside of her was just as bad of an idea as kissing her, because now I want more. Need more.

Sofia’s eyes are half-closed, but she tries to keep them locked with mine, even when I push my fingers into her faster, my thumb picking up its pace too. Not all too much, but enough to have her moan out louder, gasping for air when I can feel her walls clench around my fingers.

Her head moves up, her lips desperate to find mine… but that’s when I draw the line.

“On second thought”—I pull my fingers out of her and move off her—“maybe Grey could use the distraction.” She wouldn’t go after Grey, I’m sure of it.

“What? Why? Aaron.”

I insert my fingers into my mouth, sucking off her wetness while making sure I keep looking at her.

Sofia’s mouth opens for a second as if she’s about to speak but closes again. Her eyes follow my body when I walk across my bedroom, to find something for her to wear to bed. I don’t care if she goes to sleep in one bed with Lily and Colin, but she won’t be going home tonight. Not with the number of drinks she had.

She sits up, her arms folding over her chest. “Why did you stop? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

I shake my head, taking one of my shirts out of my closet then throw it over to her. “You were right. Kissing you doesn’t feel right. It’s just like any other kiss. We’d cross a line I’m not willing to cross with you when we have sex.”

Faintly, I can hear her sharp intake of breath, wincing at my words. If they hurt her, she doesn’t say. “I should go home.”

I throw a pair of shorts over to her, ones that’ll probably be far too big for her, but unless she wants to sleep without pants, they’re all I have. “You’re staying. I won’t let you Uber home when you’ve had a couple of drinks too many. I can’t drive you because, again, I, too, had a few too many drinks. So had Colin, Lily, and Grey. And well, Miles can’t leave because of Brooke. You’re stuck here for the night.” I don’t think she even cares that much about staying far away from her new roommate. Winter isn’t much of a great one.

“I can ask Lily if she has some better fitting shorts for you,” I offer, suddenly remembering that my sister lives in this house, too.

She glares at me, then chooses to ignore my offer. “You know, what you just did might be considered as rude.”

“Offering my sister’s clothes to you?”

“Starting to fuck me and not go through with it.”

“My apologies, Miss Carlsen.” I walk over to her, grasping her chin with one hand and force her to look up to me. “I think I’m allowed to be rude when you’re the one playing games.”

“I’m not playing games.”

“No? Well then, admit you do like me. Admit the kiss we shared earlier meant something to you. Tell me it wasn’t just a kiss.”

She stays quiet, her eyes trying to look anywhere but at me. So I squeeze her cheeks a little harder.

“You can’t, can you? Because some fucked up part in your head tells you it could never be real, we could never be real.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “Perhaps that part in your brain is right. We could never work.”

I let go off her face, rushing toward my bedroom door to escape the room, fuck, escape the whole house. Tonight, I’ll be cozying it up with Grey. I’m sure he won’t mind me sleeping in his bed, he never has before.