I slide across one of the worn leather seats, all the way to the wall. It’s not until Euan sits across from me that I realize I subconsciously made room for him to sit beside me, though I’m not sure why. It’s not like Theresa and I usually sat on the same side of a booth. Memories from my drunken night with Euan surface, him pressed against me. Our bodies fitting neatly together. Feeling cozy, comfortable, rather than trapped.
Clearing my throat, I return to our previous conversation. “So, your brother,” I start, though I’m not sure where to take the sentence. I want to keep talking, not only to distract Euan from whatever put him in a funk, but because it’s kind of nice to do the ‘getting to know you’ phase again. To learn as much about Euan as possible. “Has he written anything I’d recognize?”
“I don’t know,” he replies. “He writes under a pen name and refuses to share it with anyone.”
I glance around, ensuring there aren’t any young listeners nearby, then lean forward and whisper, “Does he write sci-fi erotica?”
Euan snorts. “I don’t think so. I think he wants the rest of us to solve some puzzle he’s concocted in his head to figure out what his pen name is, but none of us have taken the bait yet.”
A server interrupts us to take our order, and we both order the Elvis burger. It’s nice to have someone who doesn’t mind ordering the same food. The few times I did it around Theresa, she usually changed her order. When I asked why, she explained: “What’s the point of going out to eat if we order the same thing? We could have just stayed home and cooked.”
I’d nod along in faux understanding when what I really wanted to say was: “Do you have the time and patience tomake risotto at home?”
The server leaves and Euan picks up the conversational thread, weaving it in a new direction. “You mentioned a sister?”
“I have two, actually; one older and one younger, though the older one is from my dad’s first marriage. The younger one is how I met Theresa. Married at nineteen, divorced before she was twenty-one.” I laugh awkwardly. “I guess short marriages run in the family.”
Euan’s expression goes blank, and I realize he thought I meant our marriage, when I was referring to my dad. Before I can correct myself—should I even correct myself?—he takes a deep breath and says, “We should discuss the parameters of our relationships.”
‘Parameters’ makes it sound like a math equation.
Euan + Alex = X. Solve for X.
At least that explains why he’s barely touched me this evening, despite the opportunities. “You regret last night,” I say, pressing my lips together. I don’t know what to apologize for first: masturbating while thinking of him or coming on his face. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or was pushy or selfish—”
“Two Elvis Burgers!” the server exclaims as they arrive at our table. They set one plate in front of me and the other in front of Euan. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, picking up a fry and toying with it between my fingers. Some melted peanut butter has spilled out of the burger onto the plate, and I dip the fry into it just to give myself something to do other than blurt out a dozen apologies.
“Alex,” Euan says, his voice quiet. He starts to reach across the table for me, but his elbow bumps along the plate, smearing his arm in grease and peanut butter. Sighing, he grabs a napkin and wipes it off, then pushes his plate to the side. “I enjoyed … what we did.” Even though he keeps the conversation vague to not offend our possible audience, heat still rises to my cheeks as I think of last night. His thick tongue writhing inside me, bringing me right to the edge of climax. Neither of my previous boyfriends had ever rimmed me, both too squeamish to experiment. The memory of Euan diving right in, devouring me like a five-star meal, makes me squirm from hope of feeling it again.
And before that, when we spent so long kissing on the couch. I could have spent hours doing nothing but tasting him, feeling him beneath and around me.
Needing a distraction for my hands and mouth, I pick up my burger and take a large bite. Hot bacon, cool bananas, and sweet, sticky peanut butter combine with the usual burger grease. It’s enough to make me miss the warning signs of the impending ‘but.’
“But I think we need to discuss what we want from each other. What kind of relationship do you want?” Euan's dark eyes are locked on mine, waiting for an answer.
Well, he’s going to have to wait a few more minutes, because the peanut butter has stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
Brilliant idea, Alex, taking him out for conversation-preventing burgers.
At least it gives me some time to wrestle with my thoughts. What kind of relationshipdoI want? My world revolved around Theresa for over a year, for better or worse, and I’d only escaped her orbit for a few hours before colliding with Euan. He’s attractive, kind, funny, andtemporary. If it weren’t for the marriage, we might have spent one night together, drinking or fucking to forget our problems, and then never seen each other again.
Romance was never supposed to be part of the equation.
Do I want to be friends-with-benefits? Though I guess we would technically behusbands-with-benefits,at least until the annulment.
Euan watches me without saying anything, as if he knows I’m stalling. Or maybe the peanut butter is sealing his mouth shut too.
By the time my mouth is clear, I still don’t know what to say. “Can I think about it?” I whisper.
His eyes never leave me as he eats a few fries. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” he says slowly. “But I want to make sure we’re on the same page before we continue.”
I nod, appreciating his openness, the fact I don’t have toguesswith him as he tells me what he wants.
I just wish I understood my own desires as clearly as he understands his.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Euan
