As I sit in tense silence, I can’t help but wish I could turn back time, go back to that night, hold her a little tighter, kiss her a little longer, and find the courage to stay. My heart rate picks up at the possibility.
But it’s too late now.
Besides, I wouldn’t do it anyway. I’m not looking for anything more.
Even if she makes me question the decision I made for myself.
Maybe she’s so distant because she thinks I pushed her to the curb, but I haven’t. I need to keep my distance where it counts. It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company for a while longer.
Right?
I have never slept with anyone repeatedly, but there is always a first time. There just won’t be any more sleepovers.
The cuddling is the risky part.Trying to steer us back to the flirty banter we had before I messed up, I lean in and whisper, “When I think about you, I touch myself.”
She lets out a short breath in reply, but I can see the side of her mouth turn up slightly before she counters, “Yeah, me too. I rub my temples because you give me a damn headache.”
I chuckle, more than happy that she’s at least reacting in some way. She reaches out to grab her mug, but I intercept her hand and take it in mine, tangling our fingers. She looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “What do you want, Nash?” she asks, her tone turning cold again.
“Where should I start,” I reply, my gaze fixed on her lips.
Would it be too bold to drag her up to my room and eat her out until the frown on her face is replaced by that little crease she gets between her eyebrows when she comes?
She pulls her hand out of mine and states, “That won’t happen again. I’m just as done with you as you were with me.”
Ah… yes, she’s definitely pissed that I just left.
“I wasn’t done. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, no strings attached.”
Fuck, I sound like an asshole, even to my own ears.
“It does mean exactly that. Thefun…” she nearly spits the word, “… is over. We can be friends if you want, but I’m not going to stay much longer anyway. I just need to fill my funds and get some damn hoses and a heater, and I’m gone.”
Why does that make my skin crawl?
Normally, I’m relieved when my hookups get rid of themselves.
“Okay, let’s be friends. Friends fuck each other all the time. You know there is even a term for that, ‘Friends with Benefits.’”
Sure, that will make her sleep with you, fucking idiot.
“I’m sure you have enoughfriendsto get your benefits. I need to go to work,” she states in a bored tone, standing and taking her mug to the dishwasher before she grabs her laptop and leaves the kitchen.
Well, fuck.
My mind is spiraling.
I find myself wandering into the dimly lit kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water again. Even though I’m dead on my feet, I can’t seem to sleep.
I haven’t seen Saylor since he got pulled away after the talk with Hunter, and it haunts me.
Maybe something about the conversation helped him find the light, and he couldn’t say goodbye?
Maybe he’s mad, after all?
Not to mention the rest of the Joneses who take turns in my head.
Not like that.
