“Why?”
I sigh, not really wanting to go over this again. “Because he’s only here for a couple of weeks and then goes back to his life. Neither of us want to start something that’s going nowhere. And no,” I add quickly, “we’re not interested in some no-strings sex.”
She frowns and leans back against the counter, crossing her arms. “I thought all gay men liked no-strings sex?”
I glare at her, both eyebrows raised. “Really, Sadie?”
She’s quick to raise her hands. “Sorry! Sorry. I know you’re not all the same. I don’t know why I said that. I just want you to have somefunfor once.”
“So do I, but that doesn’t necessarily mean fucking someone I hardly know.”
“Sounds like a good time to me,” she says under her breath.
I snort. “I’m gonna tell Tim you said that.”
She laughs. “Do it. He knows all about my fantasies. In fact, we’ve?—”
I slap a hand over her mouth. “Nope. I do not need to know that.”
“Prude.”
I ignore her and pour water into our travel mugs when the kettle boils. “It’s just not for me, okay?”
An image of Charlie all sleep-rumpled and cute flashes into my mind, calling me a big fat liar. I could kill him for sending that fucking photo.
And me for sending one in return.
Sadie lets it drop, thank God. She gets the milk from our mini fridge and finishes off the teas, and I think we’ve moved on when she stops and looks up at me, eyes narrowed. “Was that who the photo was for?”
Shit.
“What photo?” I was almost positive no one was around when I took that.
“I saw you setting up your camera when you were chopping wood yesterday. Figured you were just being vain, but...”
Heat climbs slowly up from my neck, filling my cheeks until I’m sporting an obvious blush. “No.”
Her frown is replaced by a shit-eating grin. She reaches up and prods my cheek. “You’re such a liar.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her laughter follows me out the door as I head towards the entrance gate.
“Did he like it at least?” She calls from the office doorway.
I turn, walking backwards, and shrug. “Who?”
She shakes her head at me. “Just friends, my arse,” she says before disappearing from view.
Her words work their way under my skin as I open the gate and swing it back, leaving the entrance open for customers to drive in.
Friends can flirt, right?
I’m still thinkingabout it Tuesday morning when I spot a couple of familiar faces walking towards the hut. Nothing’s changed after those photos or our lunch together. I’ve texted back and forth with Charlie over the last couple of days and it’s been... nice. He’s been busy with book work and I’ve been here.
We haven’t managed to set another date to meet up, and I wonder if that’s me second-guessing things. He said he’s been busy writing, so I haven’t asked.
I want to, though.
I just don’t know if I should.
