“And what?” I fiddle with the pillows, avoiding eye contact. “We talked.”
“Charlie?”
I both hate and love that he knows me so well. “Fine.” I look at my screen and sigh. “We kissed.”
He grins. “Fucking finally. And?”
“That’s it.”
“What, really?”
“Yes.”
“I hate to tell you this, Charlie, but if you’re saving yourself for marriage, that ship has sailed.”
“Oh, fuck you. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. We both knew it couldn’t go anywhere.”
His expression is a mix of frustration and pity. I’m not a fan of either.
“Why not?” He asks eventually. “What’s stopping you from having a bit of fun? Surely not Dan still?”
I give him my best unimpressed look, because fuck that.
“Fine, not Dan then. Is he not as hot as you remembered?”
I groan and slump down the bed. “It’s not that either.”
“Explain it to me then. Why can’t you fuck the hot lumberjack?”
“He’s not a lumberjack.”
“Stop deflecting.” He groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re allowed to have fun, Charlie.”
“I know. But I like him, Seb. Icouldlike him a lot.”
“It’s just a few days. Would it really be that hard to leave?”
I think about that kiss, how it felt to be wrapped up in his strong arms and hugged like he could fix everything if I let him. “For me, yeah. I think it could. If I fuck him, it won’t just be once. I don’t want anything else to hurt, Seb.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Only you could fall for someone in a couple of weeks.”
I huff. “I haven’t fallen for him.” Yet.
“But you could?”
So fucking easily. “Yeah, I could.”
“Okay, I won’t push.” He leans back on his bed, mirroring me. “Tell me what else you’ve been up to. How’s the writing going? Killed anyone off yet?”
I relax now we’re off the subject of Pete. Seb’s always been my staunchest supporter where my writing’s concerned, and I have no problem spending the next twenty minutes or so telling him everything I’ve come up with for my book.
It’s only when we’re saying goodbye that he brings it up again.
“You know...” He sits forward, his serious expression making me groan. “There’s such a thing as a long-distance relationship.”
Ugh. “Even if we got together, which we’re not, two weeks doesn’t exactly count as a relationship. It’d slowly fizzle out until one of us ended it. I don’t want that either.”
“Jesus, Charlie. You’re such a fucking pessimist.” He laughs, taking the sting out of his words.
