I did not like to apologize. It was embarrassing and went against my principle of never having regrets. I'm not even sure why I was doing this when I walked up that damn hill and ended up in front of Arthur's gate, only a day after Sigrid's intervention. I had not fucked up that badly. Well, I had, but he didn't know that. What I came to apologize for seemed ridiculous to me.

I took a deep breath and rang the interphone. What would be would be.

"Abril," Arthur's cold voice said through the speaker.

We were off to a good start.

"Erm, hi," I fumbled with my words. "I came to talk to you, can you let me in?"

"Why would I?"

My own words against me. That stung.

This whole apology thing already felt like the worst idea in the world. I'd apologize, but I would not grovel. If that's what he was expecting, I was out of there.

"You're right, you have no reason to. Goodbye."

Sigrid would get an earful of my wrath. So much for her being so sure that he would accept my apology. He had not even let me apologize. I turned on my heels and took out my phone to get an Uber home, because I couldn't be bothered to make the trek back down to the closest metro station. That stupid apology business was costing me a lot of money already. LA was huge, Uber trips were expensive.

"You're giving up easily, aren't you?"

This was not Arthur's distorted voice through the speaker. It was his real voice. He was standing there, just behind his closed gate. He pushed the button on his remote and the gate opened.

"Come on in," he invited me.

"My ride is on the way already."

He rolled his eyes.

"Just cancel it."

"It's too late. They're going to charge me for it."

"I'll pay."

"I'm not sure I'm in the mood to deal with you anyway."

I hadn't realized he had stepped towards me while we were talking – arguing. Standing right next to me, he snatched my phone from my hand and canceled the ride himself.

"There," he said proudly, handing me the phone back. "The ride has been canceled, and they didn't even charge you. Now come on in."

I looked at him in disbelief. What had just happened?

"I'm sorry, since when do you just take things out of people's hands? Where are your manners?"

"You're rubbing off on me, I guess." He shrugged.

I was too stunned to fire back and I followed him inside. He took my jacket off and hung it in the entrance closet.

"Do you want something to drink?"

If I was going to go through with this, I needed some liquid courage.

"I'll take some wine."

He looked at his watch. It was around two in the afternoon. He was obviously judging me for drinking so early but did not make any comment out loud. He pulled out a bottle of red, my favorite, out of his fully stocked bar and poured me a glass. He left the bottle next to it. He deliberated for a moment and, in a 'fuck it' kind of way, poured himself a vodka neat.

I took a sip of my drink, he took a sip of his, our eyes drowning in each other's.

I observed him in more detail. He was wearing a white tee-shirt and black sweatpants, the most casual outfit I'd ever seen on him outside of the gym. He wasn't wearing his glasses and his hair was adorably all over the place. He looked so much younger, and relaxed.

"I don't think I've ever seen you dressed so casually before," I commented.

"Indeed. I didn't expect company, my apologies."

He was not being sarcastic or snappy. Just saying things as they were.

"No, don't apologize. I think you look very handsome."

"You've seen me wearing far more appropriate and flattering clothes, but the one time you compliment me on my appearance is when I'm wearing sweats?"

I shrugged. "I don't like suits."

He shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips, like I was a kid who had said something funny. "Of course you don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I knew exactly what he meant. I was giving him a chance to think twice about what he was saying.

"It's just that every single assumption I have about women seems to fall short with you. Most women I know like it when men wear suits."

"And is that a bad thing?"

"No." He didn't seem convinced, though. "I'm just constantly surprised by your tastes, that's all."

My attempt to give him a chance to rephrase had failed tremendously.

"Well, sorry my tastes are not to your liking. But, you know, they're the main reason I'm attracted to you in the first place, so you ought to be grateful."

He ignored my insult and laughed.

"It's twice in a row, now, that you are confessing to being attracted to me. Are you having a stroke? Should I call 911?" He said with sarcasm.

"Oh, shut up!" I retorted. That made him laugh even more.

I took a seat on one of the barstools by the kitchen island. I expected him to sit on one as well, but he did no such thing. He stood between my parted thighs, as close to me as possible. This was, to say the least, very unexpected.

"What are you doing?" I asked. "Aren't you too close?"

Instead of responding, he put his hands on my thighs. Just above my knees first, until they started sliding up. What the hell was happening?

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm just. . . confused."

"So am I, Abril. So am I."

"Why?"

"I'm trying to figure out what you're doing here. I got no news from you for a week and suddenly you're on my doorstep."

"What did you expect me to—can you stop touching me? It's weird."

He immediately removed his hands from my legs. He did not step back.

"I thought you liked being touched," he said.

"Not by you."

I would have hurt him less if I had stabbed him in his heart. This time, he did take a step back. More than one, actually.

"No, shit, cari, that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, then?"

"I'm just not used to you touching me. You hate it so much, pardon me if your sudden change of mind is throwing me off."

"So if I don't touch you, you get upset, but if I do touch you, it throws you off? When do we ever win?"

"That's a gross shortcut you're taking. I love when you touch me. But understand my surprise. You're not just holding my hand, here, you're squeezing my thighs. That's very. . . intimate, especially for you. And I didn't expect you to even want to touch me after you broke up with me. So yes, believe it or not, I am taken aback by your sudden desire for physical contact."

"Okay. I won't touch you, then."

I rolled my eyes. For such a grown man who aspired to live an orderly life, he sure did act like a petty kid sometimes.

"Just come here, Arthur."

I opened my legs and my arms wide, inviting him in. He had a few seconds of hesitation but eventually caved. He stepped back towards me, and I wrapped my legs around his body and crossed my wrists behind his neck. As always, he was startled at first. Then he froze. Then he relaxed and put his hands back on my thighs.

"How could I have broken up with you? We were not together," he asked with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile. Again with the petty kid.

See, Sigrid? SEE?

"And if anything," he continued, "you ended things. Not me."

I leaned back, taking him all in. "Excuse me? In what world was that on me? You left my place with no explanation."

"Which is a move I learnt from you, you should be proud. And I left your place because you were deliberately trying to hurt me. I know I mean more to you than you would like to show, and I'm usually good at hanging on to that knowledge when you're being rude. But there's only so much I can take." He marked a pause. "You chased me away, you didn't go after me, and you even questioned why you would even do that when I gave you one final chance to make it right."

"But you left. It was a tough situation and you just chose to leave."

"Again, taking a page out of your own book here."

This apology was going amazingly well. . .

"It's not the same."

"How so?"

"I left out of panic about where this was going. You left out of anger, to prove a point and to hurt me. I was selfish and insensitive, sure, but you were mean."

My face dropped. I rested my forehead on Arthur's chest. His hands slithered up to my upper back and he pulled me into a tight hug. He also kissed the top of my head.

"I would never be mean to you on purpose. I was profoundly hurt, so I preferred to leave rather than being hurt more. I'm really sorry I made you feel like I was harming you on purpose."

As I melted deeper into his embrace, a wave of guilt washed over me. I was there to apologize for my crappy behavior, and somehow Arthur was the one apologizing. I sighed heavily and enjoyed the comfort of his chest a bit longer.

Eventually, he broke the hug and stepped back, breaking all contact except for his hands that entwined with mine.

"So. . . You came here to tell me something?" He asked.

I looked at him. All I needed to say is, 'I'm sorry.' No big deal. But the words were stuck in my throat. Not because they were that hard to say, but because of what they meant. I was never sorry about rejecting people. But this man was different. And that was scary. Not to mention that I had a lot more to be sorry about than what I had come to apologize for.

"Would you like to go for a swim first, maybe?" He suggested.

A swim. . . It was a welcome distraction, and it was no secret that I loved his pool. That sounded like a good idea.

I nodded.

He helped me off the stool and led the way outside. The sun was shining as high as a November sun can, and the air was a bit chilly. He stripped down to his underwear, piled everything neatly and waited for me to undress too. I was wearing a puffy off-the-shoulders top and a pair of jeans. I removed my pants first, revealing plain white underwear. I heard Arthur hiss quietly when my ass came into his view.

"I'm not wearing a bra," I warned him.

"Do you want my shirt to cover up?"

"No."

He gulped audibly and probably bit his tongue so hard he drew blood to prevent himself from objecting.

I smirked and got rid of my top. Arthur's eyes fell on my boobs for a fraction of a second before he regained control and kept them on my face.

"You can look, you know," I told him. He had already seen them anyway.

"I'd rather not."

It took a lot of mental strength, but I managed not to take that personally. He was not saying that he didn't like looking at my body specifically, he was merely expressing his discomfort with nudity, and his fear of being inappropriate if, God forbid, he happened to enjoy it.

"Just fuck it and let it go, Arthur."

I didn't give him the opportunity to protest and marched towards him. My naked chest collided with his and I grabbed his arms, putting his hands on by butt cheeks. He tried to remove them but I put them straight back on. I held him there for a few seconds and, when he gave up on trying to jerk away, I put my arms around his neck.

"I shouldn't have to say this out loud but, please, grab my ass."

His hands were spread over my butt, barely touching, almost hovering. After my embarrassing request, the pressure increased a little, but not by much.

"Arthur, I'm going to need you to be very honest and open with me, can you do that?"

He nodded.

"Why are you so reluctant to touch me? Is it a me thing, or a you thing?"

"It's on me. It's one hundred percent on me," he hurried to take the blame. "I want to touch you, it's just. . . hard."

"Why?"

"It's complicated. For one, I don't like touching anybody. It's intrusive, and overwhelming, and wrong. With you, it's a little different. I'm sometimes able to overcome my sensory issues when I'm with you, but then I'm scared I'm being too licentious, or I'm afraid I'm reading you wrong and you'll resent me for trying something when you were not in the mood. I'm terrified of doing something wrong to you. Which I seem to be doing anyway when I don't touch you."

I wanted to hug him tight but, given what he had just explained, that would have been the worst thing to do. I reached behind me and removed the hands I had forcefully placed on my ass. His arms fell to his sides.

"I want to make something very clear with you," I replied. "You have my consent to touch any part of my body, at any point. If I ever do not want you to touch me, I will let you know. But until then, assume that you can. Do you understand?"

He nodded again.

"And please, keep in mind that there's no form of touching that you could do to me that would make me resent you. It's your temper I'd be worried about, if I were you," I attempted to joke but it didn't work on him. "You can touch me, I want you to touch me."

"Thank you. It is very helpful to know that I have your consent and your support. It makes things a bit easier, although it only solves part of the issue. I still dislike touching most of the time."

"That's fine. We'll work on it."

I took one of his hands and placed it on my boob. He squeezed it, gently, without waiting for my invitation to do so.

Trying my luck, I tilted my face upwards and, slowly, approached my lips to his. He didn't recoil, he didn't freeze, he didn't stop me, so I went for the kiss.

His body tensed up, resulting in my boob being squeezed a bit more, but he kissed me back. Slow and gentle, our lips moved against each other's.

I was not prepared for the sudden urge to jump his bones. I needed more. A lot more. I weaved my hands through his hair and pulled him closer to me. My lips left his to travel along his jaw, then his neck. He seemed to react positively so I went one step further and started suckling gently on his skin. I think I heard him moan a little.

Bold and confident, I put one hand on his hip, pulled him closer, and I let my lips find his ear. He enjoyed it when I played with his earlobe but, the second I let my tongue out, he jerked back. He took a step back and held me at arm's length. I deflated like a balloon.

"We need to slow down," he said.

"Do you not like it?"

He blushed and looked away. I quickly glanced down. From the slight bulge in his underwear, I could say he did like it. I didn't think twice and brought my hand to his crotch. He stopped it before I could feel him.

"I think we need to jump into the cold water right now," he stated. "We both could use it to clear our heads."

"I don't need to clear my head."

He ignored me and jumped into the pool. When he emerged, he looked at me and invited me to do the same. I shook my head.

"Come on, Abril," he encouraged me. "I'll give you a kiss if you come join me."

That had the merit to tickle my curiosity.

"Trading kisses for favors, now? That's one dangerous path you're taking, Mr. Dullac."

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm merely adapting to my target audience. Supply and demand, you know?"

I laughed a little. Was that a joke? I rolled my eyes for good measure and got into the water, sitting on the ledge first then jumping in. Arthur smiled his big wide dimple-y smile. He joined me where I stood still and immediately made good on his promise. Taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm, I let him kiss me how he pleased. It was a passionate kiss, as passionate as Arthur could be, that is. He pushed me against the wall of the pool, grabbed my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. And because he seemed more open than other times, I also wrapped my legs around his waist. The kiss intensified, both on his end and mine. I could feel him becoming more and more frantic. Which was a good sign. He was loosening up a little.

I broke the kiss and went for his neck instead. The reaction was instantaneous. He tilted his head back and moaned slightly. Just like me, Arthur had a very sensitive neck. And very sensitive ears, as his earlier reaction had demonstrated, but I would steer clear of those for now. He'd been overwhelmed as soon as I'd started playing with them and he had cut everything short.

Doing my best to handle him with delicacy, I gently kissed his skin of his neck, trapping it between my lips sometimes, but never letting my teeth take over. I could hear his breathing become more and more erratic each time I gave him another kiss. To my utter delight, he got a little more adventurous and squeezed my butt cheeks with both hands, bringing my crotch closer to his. I almost screamed in joy.

I started grinding against him, trying to compensate for the thin layer of water between us that made any kind of friction extremely hard to achieve. My lips trailed up his neck and I stopped just an inch shy of his ear. I stuck my tongue out and let my piercing do what it does best. Arthur moaned very loudly, no doubt from intense pleasure.

And then he froze against me.

Fuck. My. Life.

"Please, don't take it personally," he said as he released me, putting me back on my feet and backing away.

I crossed my arms on my chest. Maybe it was unfair of me to be angry. But I was. And disappointed. And horny. And frustrated.

I decided that nothing good could come out of my mouth at this moment, so it was better to keep it shut. I walked to the other side of the pool, the infinity side, and faced the view I liked so much, trying to ignore my throbbing vagina that really didn't like being left hanging.

I felt the water move behind me as he joined me. He didn't come close enough to touch me, but I could feel his presence. The man had serious issues with intimacy, but he had impeccable manners. He would never leave me to sulk on my own without forcing a conversation out of me first. This was both endearing and extremely annoying.

"I'm sorry, Abril. I'm trying very hard, I promise."

I didn't reply because what was there to reply? I couldn't pretend I was okay with the constant rejection, it hurt like a motherfucker every single time. But what kind of human being would I be if I was mad at him for having boundaries? I needed to respect his issues with touching and his desire to take it slow. The thing is, doing that affected my own boundaries. The never-ending frustration was taking a toll on me, and the multiple rejections did no good for my self-esteem.

I made the decision that was the most bearable for me and that caused him the least damage: I ignored him and got out of the pool.

"Don't be stubborn, Abril. Talk to me," he called out to me while I gathered my clothes in my arms.

Stubborn? Me?

I mean, yes, I was very stubborn, but in this exact moment, I was doing everything I could not to act like a stubborn, stupid girl. Silence was better than all the horrors I could throw in his face. It was very easy to insult a man who had issues in the bedroom department. I could be a bitch and call him all variations of 'impotent' and 'inexperienced.' If the former was an exaggeration, the latter was definitely true. I had the power to hurt him, and I was choosing not to use it. Because I didn't want to cause him pain. How could he not see that? I was not just stubbornly giving him the silent treatment, I was being mature for once.

Once again, I took the high road and replied nothing. I was better than that. I knew I was.

"Why does that upset you so much, anyway? I thought you didn't want to sleep with me ever again. 'No repeats', remember?"

I snapped. I turned around and faced him. The hurt face I imagine he'd been sporting until then had switched to his angry face.

"You know what, Arthur? Fuck off."

Why I had gone for generic cussing instead of attacking him on every single one of his insecurities that I knew of, that I didn't know. Because I was above this level of lowness, I guess?

I speed-walked to the house with my clothes in my arms. I locked myself inside the guest bathroom just as I heard him get inside the house.

He pounded on the door for a while, urging me to open it, but I ignored him and took a shower instead, to rinse the chlorine off my body but mostly to keep my mind occupied. Eventually the pounding stopped.

I took my time showering, and drying myself off, but eventually I had to get out, if not to talk to him, at least to grab a pair of dry underwear. I really needed to start wearing the swimsuit I'd never fail to bring when I came to this house. It was rather funny how we always ended up swimming in our underwear while we both had proper swimming attire.

He was leaning against the wall when I got out, arms crossed, wearing only his wet boxer briefs. He didn't speak when he saw me, wearing only a towel, but he followed me to the guest bedroom.

He turned around when I let the towel drop and started fishing for underwear, and he turned back to face me only when I was fully dressed again.

"Why did you come here?" He asked.

I ignored him again. I sure had deviated from my original plan to make amends.

"You came here to say something to me," he insisted. "What is it?"

I spun around and faced him, ready to scream in his face. However, something in his look made it impossible. He looked so distraught, so desperate, so lost. All he wanted was an explanation for my erratic behavior.

Fuck it.

"I came here to apologize," I confessed, not without struggling with the words. "For making you feel like you were no different than any other partner I've had and for not coming after you when you got hurt and left. And for saying we'd never have sex again." And for sleeping with his dad.

"Oh. Wow. Erm. . . Thank you."

"I also came here to have sex with you."

His eyes widened. "After the disaster of last time, you still want to have sex with me?"

Duh! Why else have we been making out since I arrived here?

"Yes."

"But you don't have sex with the same person twice."

"I could make an exception, I guess."

"You want me to be the exception?" He asked, incredulous and shocked.

Did he have to make it such a big deal? It was just sex, for crying out loud.

"Yes. But it doesn't matter anymore, you're not interest—"

I couldn't finish my sentence. Arthur had already assaulted my lips. After the initial surprise, I kissed him back timidly. I knew better than to get too involved. I wasn't in the mood to get yet another cold shower.

He raised the temperature on his own, though, holding me tight by the waist and ever so slightly grinding his crotch against mine.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" I asked while momentarily breaking the kiss.

"Oh. My apologies if that wasn't clear. We're having sex right here, right now."

I couldn't stop the stupid giggle that came out of my mouth.

"And you're okay with that?" I questioned.

"Yes. Are you?"

I thought about it for a second. Was I okay with making Arthur the one person – except for the two obvious exceptions – I'd have sex with more than once?

"Yes. Yes, I am."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/N: As always, let me know what you think of my story and leave a vote if you liked this chapter. It helps a lot!

Next chapter will be on Friday.

Love,
Charlie.