Me:Did you just call me a ballsack?
May:I was going to say pussy, but pussies are strong and beautiful. Ballsacks are weak and fragile. Like your commitment to getting laid!
Me:
Me:Who said I’m not going to get laid?
May:Oh fuck. Please tell me you’re not going where I think you’re going.
Me:This is the perfect solution, May. I check off my task and I can finally close the door on Seth Carson.
May:Sounds more like you plan on opening a giant-ass can of worms, my friend.
Me:This is the only way I can stamp out the attraction between us. It’s the last thing standing in the way of us being well and truly done.
May:I hope you know what you’re doing.
Me:I do.
May:Okay. Good luck. Love you. Talk to you tomorrow.
Me:Love you too.
I tuck my phone away and keep my eyes locked on the driver’s GPS, counting down the minutes until we arrive at Seth’s, refusing to let May’s concerns niggle at my mind. This is the best solution, the only solution, really. Seth and I have had all the talks, we’ve hashed out the past, the only thing left to do is put this lingering sexual tension to bed. Literally.
Crossing my fingers, I make a quick list of all the things I wish for tonight: Seth really is home. Seth is alone. Seth agrees to sleep with me. And somehow, some way, I wake up tomorrow ready to fully let go of Seth Carson.
25
I’ve always firmly believed that when you find “the one” you just know it, deep down in your bones.
—Seth Carson, “Am I Doing Dating Right?”
My fingers knot themselves together after I knock on Seth’s front door. I use the age-old “inhale for five, exhale for five” trick so I don’t hyperventilate and pass out on his porch. That would not be hot.
The door swings open, and Seth’s face registers confusion that immediately turns to concern. “Parker?”
It should be simple to confirm, yes, that’s me, that is my name, but I seem to have lost all power of speech.
He’s wearing gray sweatpants.
He’s wearing only gray sweatpants.
And they’re slung low on his hips, highlighting that blasted V and the trail of dark hair that leads down to the waistband of said sweatpants.
Seth pushes opens his door and gestures for me to come in. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Did someone hurtyou?” His eyes search my face as if it can provide the answers my mouth seems unable to form.
Finally, I manage to shake my head. Pulling my eyes from his abs and directing them to the floor, where they won’t be distracted, I clear my throat. “No, nothing happened. I’m fine.”
His bare feet move into my line of vision. “If you’re fine, what are you doing here?”
It should be another simple question to answer.I want to fuck you.Surely this is a thing most guys are happy to hear, right? Yet I can’t seem to manage to spit out those five little words.
Seth’s fingers find my chin, raising it so I have to make eye contact. “Parker. Why are you here?” His voice is commanding yet laced with concern.
I open my mouth and decide to go for the long-winded approach. “Well, I was at the club with May and things were going okay. We got in and got some drinks, but then when we started looking around for potential hookups I just couldn’t seem to find anyone I was interested in so I hid in the bathroom for a bit and I saw that you texted and then I got to thinking that my list doesn’t actually have any requirements about who I sleep with and so I figured rather than risk going home with some stranger, I’d much rather come here, because if I have to have a one-night stand with someone, well, why not you?” I rush out the last few words and then promptly clamp my teeth down on my lower lip so I don’t spew anything else out and make it even worse.
Seth takes a tiny step back, his expression unreadable.“You came here to sleep with me? You want me to be the one-night stand?”
