That’s the last thing that I want. I agree with him, of course I like Kate. She’s easy to like in every way. It might be a physical way right now, but what happens when I get to know her? Already the little glimpses I’ve seen have me intrigued. I’ve been so dead set on never having a relationship and I’m starting to wonder why.
For the longest time, it felt like becoming serious with a woman would change my relationship with Gavin. But if we were committed to the same woman?
“No, we shouldn’t stop. I just wanted to see where your head was at. Tonight seemed different,” I say.
Maybe Gavin is being honest, and he doesn’t see this going anywhere beyond our agreement. Or maybe he’s like me and hiding what he really thinks.
All I know is that I’m not as scared of the idea of having more with Kate. What I’m scared of is being the only one who feels this way.
Either way, I’m getting way ahead of myself. We spent one night together. Albeit a very hot fucking amazing night. One that has my quads aching and I know I need to rehydrate. But it was just fucking…and a sleepover. Not to mention I think that the orange cat is imprinting on me.
It’s what we agreed to. A friendship with very delicious benefits.
Kate’s just providing an outlet I’ve been yearning for. I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s physical, it’s fun.
“It was different. Good different. Are you sure you’re okay with this agreement?” he asks and I nod.
“Yeah, I’m just being cautious.”
“Don’t be. She’s our friend, that we’re fucking. It’s simple.”
Simple.
Yeah. Fucking. Right.
22
DIRTY DANCING
Savannah is over,helping me choose what to wear tonight.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” I ask.
“No, I have a date tonight. Plus, you’ll be too busy being the center of a twin sandwich, anyway.”
I glare at her as I put on the next dress. It's olive green, and semi backless, so there’s no way to wear a bra.
“Yes, if you’re trying to get fucked on the dance floor. They must be hot if you forgave them so easily,” she says, plopping a grape into her mouth, giving me a smile.
“We weren’t exclusive, and they were both very apologetic.”
“Are you talking about a real apology or an apology in the form of orgasms?”
“Uh, both?” I say, grabbing the next dress.
“Wait…were they separate apologies or one big, giant apology?” she asks, clearly riveted in my sex life.
“Also both.”
She gasps, clutching her metaphorical pearls. “Both? At the same time?”
My face feels like it’s on fire as I nod, confirming her suspicions.
“It was a very good apology,” I say as she tosses a grape at me.
“So, it’s just sex?”
“Just sex,” I agree, trying on the next dress. “Well, I guess friends too. They invited me to their opening night. So friends with benefits, no feelings, just sex.”
