Sweet. Foreman grimaced. Worse than Amber laughing--which was bad enough--was her thinking that his concern was cute. He was glad to know he was wrong, but it hadn't been an unreasonable guess, just a wrong one. He could see the gleam of her eyes above him, but he didn't smile back. Right. In short, he'd been overzealous and ridiculous for thinking anything of the sort. Getting confirmation of that was almost worse than Amber asking him to stop, because obviously if he'd made a fool of himself then, she might have been willing to keep going. Idiot.
The light trace of her fingertips along his jaw felt at first like part of her patronizing response and Foreman tried to hold himself stiff, away from the comfort, but he stopped when Amber said his name. He nodded--didn't know how much she saw--when she repeated that she liked him. He wanted to say it back. Jesus, it was more than like, whether they'd known each other less than a week or not. But he was still miffed by her laughter, and he kept quiet, listening.
He'd had a few long-term relationships. If things had gone even slightly differently, he might still be with Claire. But they'd both been heavily recruited out of medical school, and she wouldn't move with him across the country when her dream internship was on the East Coast. They'd talked, even, about keeping up something long distance. Foreman thought Claire had known, even then, that he wouldn't manage to keep it up. He'd sent a card when she married. They'd even managed to trade sides of the country again--she lived in San Francisco now. And there had been other women, other times when he'd carried on for months without anything going wrong on the surface; but he, or they, had always eventually faced the fact that the reason was that there wasn't much between them below the surface.
Still, Foreman doubted a few long-term relationships put him in any better position than Amber to figure out how they were going to work out whatever was between them. He licked his lips, ready to tell her so, but her voice faded to a murmur. Foreman sighed. He'd leave it for tonight. Let her sleep, let himself recover from the wild changes in direction they'd gone through this evening. He pulled the covers over the two of them, easing Amber into a slightly more comfortable position, cushioned on his shoulder. "It's okay," he murmured, letting himself press close to her. "It'll be okay." She was probably already asleep. Exhausted, finding it easy to close his eyes and listen to Amber's even breathing, Foreman let himself follow her into sleep.
no subject
The light trace of her fingertips along his jaw felt at first like part of her patronizing response and Foreman tried to hold himself stiff, away from the comfort, but he stopped when Amber said his name. He nodded--didn't know how much she saw--when she repeated that she liked him. He wanted to say it back. Jesus, it was more than like, whether they'd known each other less than a week or not. But he was still miffed by her laughter, and he kept quiet, listening.
He'd had a few long-term relationships. If things had gone even slightly differently, he might still be with Claire. But they'd both been heavily recruited out of medical school, and she wouldn't move with him across the country when her dream internship was on the East Coast. They'd talked, even, about keeping up something long distance. Foreman thought Claire had known, even then, that he wouldn't manage to keep it up. He'd sent a card when she married. They'd even managed to trade sides of the country again--she lived in San Francisco now. And there had been other women, other times when he'd carried on for months without anything going wrong on the surface; but he, or they, had always eventually faced the fact that the reason was that there wasn't much between them below the surface.
Still, Foreman doubted a few long-term relationships put him in any better position than Amber to figure out how they were going to work out whatever was between them. He licked his lips, ready to tell her so, but her voice faded to a murmur. Foreman sighed. He'd leave it for tonight. Let her sleep, let himself recover from the wild changes in direction they'd gone through this evening. He pulled the covers over the two of them, easing Amber into a slightly more comfortable position, cushioned on his shoulder. "It's okay," he murmured, letting himself press close to her. "It'll be okay." She was probably already asleep. Exhausted, finding it easy to close his eyes and listen to Amber's even breathing, Foreman let himself follow her into sleep.