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It was, hands down, the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
In my entire life.
Max:I’m at my gate and bored. There is a man next to me who really wants me to ask about the book he’s reading and making noises about it. I refuse, btw.
Me:Maybe just say I HATED THAT BOOK.
Max:I will not engage. Also... I miss your body.
I literally gasped. It was small and quiet, so no one around me appeared to have heard, but I hadn’t expected him to bring up the sex. After the kisses by his truck and at the diner, he’d seemed shocked that I’d dared to mention them.
So now he was bringing up my body, which he’d meticulously explored with all of his important parts?
Me:And it misses you. So... what do we think about friends with benefits? Still bad?
Max:Yes.
Wow, he hadn’t paused for a second. No lingering conversation bubbles at all.I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. I knew friends with benefits never worked and society generally considered it to be a terrible idea.
But we were different. We were both absolutely uninterested in anything other than what we had right now. So for us it couldbedifferent, right? Logically I knew I had to be wrong, because if it was possible, more people would do it, but as a person who was incredibly interested in more sex with Max, I thought it had merit.
I texted:Even though we both know it’s purely physical?
Max:Even though. It’s a colossally bad idea that I would never consider.
I bit down on my lip and felt a little wounded, to be honest. It couldn’t have been as good for him as it’d been for me, because if it had, he would be struggling with the idea.
I texted:Fine. In the infamous words of Callie the Redneck Bride, I only wanted your penis.
Max:It’s love.
“What?” I said to myself, under my breath, then noticed the man across from me looking at me like I was strange. But what the hell did Max mean?It’s love?
Max:Callie said she only LOVED his penis.
Oh.
Okay.
So he wasn’t tossing around the wordlove, he was correcting me on the quote.
Okay.Thatmade sense.
thirty-three
Max
Friends with benefitswould never be an option.
Not that I don’t want more sex with Sophie,I thought as the man beside me made yet another mewling noise in response to whatever he was reading.
Since the minute she’d climbed out of my bed that morning, my brain had been compiling an exhaustive list of everything I still wanted to do with her.Take a shower together, have sex in the shower, have sex in the elevator, take a bath together, wash her hair, spend an entire night together, have sex on my kitchen counter, have sex on my kitchen table, have sex on my balcony, take her to dinner—I could literally go on all day.
(Side note: She’d had the same idea about the shower, so we’d already taken care of that one.)
But there was no way we were going to add sex to our strategic friendship, because I couldn’t handle it. We were friends who accidentally fell into sex, but I refused to be friends who casually had sex to scratch an itch. She might be absolutely emotionally unaffected by our intimacy, but I was anything but.
The truth was that I half suspected I was in love with her already.
