We’ve known each other for only a week. What did I expect?
I’d said I wanted a friend with benefits, and that’s what I’d gotten.
“I understand being busy,” I said finally.
He shook his head and pulled me closer. “Don’t do that,” he whispered, pressing his lips against mine. “I meant everything I said earlier. I’m going to be traveling, and then there are phone restrictions in training camp, so I’ll be out of touch, but I’ll reach out whenever I can. Every chance I can. And I’m going to figure out a way to see you as much as I can.”
“Friends get busy and pick up where they leave off all the time.” I hugged him tight so he couldn’t see my face as I blinked back tears. When I felt like my emotions were in check, I plastered on a smile and looked him in the eyes. “You have a long drive, and I want you to get home safely.”
“Call me before you go to bed,” he said, just before his full lips covered mine.
He kissed me gently at first, and then our mouths and tongues collided with unfettered passion. Desire coiled in my belly, and any questions I had about what we’d shared over the last week melted. As we moaned our affection and our goodbyes, I held him tighter.
Seconds turned to minutes, and I had to break the kiss. “If we don’t stop, you won’t get home until after midnight.”
“I know,” he murmured, before kissing me again.
I smiled against his lips. “I’m going to miss you.”
The words spilled out of me accidentally, and I froze.
My eyes opened slowly, and I found him staring at me.
His hands left my back, and he cupped my face. “I’m going to miss you, too.” He planted a soft, sweet kiss against my waiting mouth. “You’re going to call me later?”
I nodded. “Yes. Drive safely.”
He waited for me to unlock the door and go inside before he left the porch. I waited until he pulled off to close and lock the door. As soon as I turned around, I felt an intense wave of emotion.
Anxiety hit me.
Fear gripped me.
Sadness crushed me.
Blinking back tears, I called to check on Aunt Addy, but she was already asleep. The silence in her home was deafening. I made dinner and tried to read a book while I ate at the kitchen table. When that didn’t get me out of my head, I made my way to the shower. It wasn’t until I was under the stream of the water that I broke down and cried.
While I was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling with tears still streaming down my face, I realized what was going on.
I liked Lamar; there was no denying that.
But I wasn’t crying over Lamar because I had feelings for him. I was crying because of how Lamar made me feel. I was crying because being with Lamar had been the only thing that soothed the pain of watching Aunt Addy’s health decline. I was crying because I was in Aunt Addy’s house without her. I was crying because the thought of losing the first person who had ever fully understood me was heartbreaking. Something about him made me the version of myself that was unencumbered by the harsh realities of my life—my childhood in Chance, my divorce, my Aunt Addy’s condition. He made me feel like the lightest, happiest, most unbothered version of myself. He saw me. More than that, he made me feel seen.
It was nice and I’d miss it.
He was nice and I’d miss him.
But it scared me.
So, with him being busy and unsure of when we’d see each other again and me not wanting anything resembling a relationship anyway, I needed to be realistic about our friendship.
And I silently reminded myself of that when I got his text an hour later.
Lamar Anderson:Sis and her kids are fine. And she talked to bro last week and he was also fine. Call me if you’re not too tired.
I reminded myself again that he said he was too busy for a relationship and that we were just friends before I called and talked to him for the remaining two hours of his drive. And I gave myself a third reminder when I woke up thinking about him Monday morning.
I had a pit in my stomach that grew every time he crossed my mind.
