I’ve never jumped from one man to another in my life. I wasn’t a teenager who needed to have a boyfriend or anything, but I’ve had three relationships of some kind in just a matter of weeks. I need to breathe and regroup.
“And I won’t ask you who hurt you, either,” I say.
His lips curve up into a little bit bigger of a smile, his gaze searching mine. “Yeah,” he exhales.
“I thought this was only for last night?” I ask.
His hand glides around to the back of my neck, and he gently grasps me there, his palm warm against my skin. He massages me slightly, his gaze searching mine for a long moment insilence. I don’t know what he’s thinking, and the longer we stay this way, the more I wonder if he’s regretting it completely.
“If you’d like, we can see where it goes. I know you won’t love me, and I can’t love you, either, but maybe we can comfort one another?”
If someone had said that to me a year ago, I would have told them, thanks but no thanks. Today, though, after the last few months I’ve had, I’m more than fine with that arrangement. In fact, I think it might be the smartest and most appealing thing he could offer me.
“That sounds nice,” I reply.
He leans forward, his lips hovering above mine, and then he presses them to mine in a chaste kiss. Sealing our choice with a kiss. It’s probably a rash decision for me, especially since I haven’t even spoken to Goose, but he took his things, left my apartment, and hasn’t even tried to contact me.
I don’t need him to spell it out for me, and I’m not going to hunt him down to hear the words, either. He’s done. He’s made it clear enough for me. I don’t need it spelled out any clearer than it already is.
And that’s that.
I really hope my heart can get the memo, and soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CIDNEY
George drives me home.It should be an uncomfortable drive, but it’s not. In fact, everything with George has felt oddly comfortable and calm. It’s almost a little too easy. It feels like we’re friends who fucked. And it’s then that I realize that’s what we are.
Friends who fuck.
There’s no burning heat between us, no palpable energy that draws us to each other, and maybe that’s what I need, what he needs, too. It feels calming and comfortable, like homemade chicken noodle soup and a fluffy blanket.
George may not make me feel sexy and dangerous. He may not make my body sing. But he won’t break my heart, either. I mean, it’s for the best, really. Having a great love affair has done nothing but hurt every ounce of me.
“Work Monday morning?” George asks as he pulls up in front of my building.
Turning my head, I give him a smile and dip my chin in a single nod. “I’ll be there, Dr. Edwards.”
That earns me a small smile. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around my wrist before he squeezes me gently.
“This feels good, easy,” he says, his voice warm, like a cozy hug.
“It does,” I whisper.
He squeezes my wrist once, then releases it. He doesn’t walk me to my door. We’re not there yet. We may never be, and I would be fine with it. I don’t know what we are, but whatever it is, it’s comfortable and safe. It’s like homemade buttercream icing on a white cake. A little plain and boring, but still good and can still be satisfying.
Walking into my apartment, I close the door behind me and lock it. Spinning around slowly, I close my eyes and inhale. I can still smell Goose here, but his scent has faded. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, not when I’ve just slept with another man.
But I don’t think I’ll ever not think about Goose a little bit. He’s the first person I ever fell in love with. It was so short-lived, and I shouldn’t care as much as I do, but I hoped, and I thought that he was my future.
I gave my heart and soul to him. I allowed myself to think that I could have it all. I walk over to the balcony door, but don’t go outside, but I do look out at the ground below me. I’m staring out at nothingness. Trying not to think about how fucked up everything is.
I’m trying not to think about how I probably made everything even more fucked up by going home with George last night and then agreeing to be friends with benefits with him this morning. Not to mention, the man is my boss. I try not to think about any of that, but fail when my phone buzzes in my hand.
Looking down at my screen, I wince at the name flashing across it. It’s Lainey. Sliding my thumb across, I bring the phone to my ear and greet her as normally as possible.
“Oh my god,” she exhales. I open my mouth to reply, but she continues speaking, so I snap my lips closed. “I’m so sorry, but I was worried, and I told Piggy everything.”
