Friendship?
I doubt it’s possible to fuck the way we have and become friends after.
“You don’t think that would be awkward, when one of us starts dating.”
Bree bites her lip as she considers my question. “It shouldn’t. It’s not like we were a real couple or anything. We had an arrangement,” she explains as she slips into her other boot. “Both of us more than fulfilled our side of the deal.”
She’s right but I feel so...used? It doesn’t make sense. I’d originally laughed at the idea of her ten freebies, and now, I’m wishing I’d negotiated twenty.
“What’s your plan now?” I can’t help it. I must ask, although I dread the answer.
“Well, find a new job for one. Then I’ll start searching for Mr. Right,” she tells me like my dick wasn’t just deep inside her, while she helplessly moaned my name. “And, you can go back to your scores of women.”
I don’t want any of the fucking women she’s referencing. I only want her, but I feel if I tell her, she’ll just see it as me trying to manipulate more sex out of her. I want that, but I also want to the part that had us hanging out and talking on the phone. Reluctantly, I hold out a hand for her to shake.
“Alright, Kitten. Here’s to you finding a forever man.” The words are bitter as hell in my mouth.
I say a silent prayer that will give me the strength to not break that guy’s face.
Bree shakes my hand, but this feels all wrong. I pull her into a hug until she wiggles out of my embrace. I need to be alone, but she’s at my house. Kicking her out would be petty. Bree’s phone chimes. She answers and immediately begins chatting with Chloe. I walk her to the door, and she turns and kisses me on the cheeks once she’s there.
“Don’t forget, we still have a game to attend.”
Then, she’s gone.
* * *
Bree
The holidays are over, yet people are still festive as hell, and I feel anything but celebratory. Jason let me go without a second thought. I knew it was a gamble. The surprise on his face, meant he hadn’t kept up with the count. I had to because every time he touched me, I felt like he was taking a piece of me. I doubt I’ll ever find another guy who makes me feel the desire I feel for Jason. I take another sip of my tequila sunrise; it’s delicious and it makes me sadder.
“Put that face away. We’re in Hotspot and supposed to be having the time of our lives, yet you’re pouting over the dude who made your drink.”
“I cannot help it. That dude who made my drink gave me the best sex of my life. A family style type of Christmas for a day and is actually fun to be around. And…” I lean in across the table. “Did you see how gorgeous he is with that black shirt clinging to his body and that fresh haircut.”
“You mean the come-get-me-I’m-single ensemble he’s rocking?”
“Why are we here? There are umpteen bars all over Houston.”
“I figured you’d want him in eyesight with all the pouting you’ve been doing lately.”
“It’s not helping. We should go.”
As soon as I said it, I see Jason talking to another beautiful, black woman; she’s tall, thin, and leggy with a pixie haircut. He throws his head back and laughs at something she says to him. It hurts. I want to claim someone who isn’t mine, but I promised him he’d return to this life without any mixed signals from me. He has his life. I have mine. It’s not his fault I fell in love with him.
Pleasantries. That’s all we are to each other. Two people who aren’t real friends, but who also aren’t strangers trying to get past the awkward encounters on the porch or the mailbox. Over it, I get up to force Chloe to leave.
“Your plan is not working,” I repeat.
I take two steps away from my chair at the bar when an attractive, yet tipsy guy smirks at me as if he’s known me forever. Stymied, I stop and stare at him to give my brain time to place him. Taking it as interest, he skips the small talk and goes straight for the kiss. I gasp when he grabs me and am grateful that he’s drinking something that doesn’t taste terrible and at least smells good. But, the kiss is unwarranted, and he’s not Jason. Just as suddenly as he kissed me, he’s gone. Big ass Lars had scooped him up and pushes him out of the bar.
I turn back to the bar to locate Jason, but he’s nowhere to be found. Sighing, I usher Chloe out, as she chats with Max on the phone.
This night is terrible. We get in the car, and Chloe heads to my house.
“I know you’re bummed about Jason. But, I also know you well enough to know, that’s not the only thing bothering you—spill.”
Sighing, I turn my gaze from the window to her.
