I sigh, and plop down next to her. “You know why, Spence”

___________________________________

“What?!” I say. “No I just meant um…how do you know the difference between attraction and…and love.” She did it again. She says these little things that have double meanings behind them and it catches me completely off guard and I look like a moron.

At first she just looks at me. Right in the eye and I can’t look away.  She’s reading me. Everything I wanted to say. She knows that I was really asking why she doesn’t have feelings for Carmen, and she knows that I know the answer. But then she just grabs my arm and begins to run her fingers up and down it, lightly scratching it and giving me the chills. I always used to ask her to do it, and at first she’d complain, but now I think it’s almost comforting for her.  She does it all the time, when we’re falling asleep, if we’re watching a movie, if either of us are nervous, or when she’s trying to explain something to me.

Lately though, it’s less innocent. And I can’t help getting turned on when she does it, when she’s that close to me.  And it’s been happening more and more often.

“Well,” she begins.  “Attraction, lust, whatever you want to call it, its more physical.  I’m attracted to Carmen’s body, her face, the things I can see. But I don’t know what’s in here,” She places her other hand over my heart, and I gulp. If she notices this, she doesn’t let on, even though her hand on my arm stills.  “But more importantly, I don’t want to know what’s in her heart, because I don’t really care.”

 “Lust is like…when you’re around someone your whole body is on fire. Every touch…”she says, as she starts to give me the chills again, “feels like electricity coursing through your body. And you’re so crazy with desire for that person that you can’t even think straight.”

I know exactly what she means. Exactly. But I can’t say that. So instead, I just lean into her and close my eyes.

___________________

“Oh.” She whispers softly. She looks so beautiful right now. She is leaning back into me, her eyes are closed, and her breathing is heavy, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was asleep.  She takes my hand that’s still resting on her heart and grasps it with her hand, and when she does this, it moves my hand down, just a fraction of an inch, so that I’m just barely touching the swell of her breast. But she doesn’t make any effort to move my hand.