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“Then you are wrong.” I grin, hoping to ease his frustration. “What we have is so good because we know what it is. I just don’t want us losing that.”
And I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that I’m in the middle of something I can’t get out of.
“I think you’re wrong,” he says with a smirk that sets off a warning alarm in my brain. Oh fuck. What’s he up to? “I think we’re already in a relationship, and for some reason, you don’t want to acknowledge it.”
“Aw, I hate that for you.”
He chuckles softly. “Me, too. So you’re going to get your wish. I’m going to stop acting like your boyfriend.”
My eyes narrow. This was easy. He gave in way too easily.
“Good,” I say carefully. “So we’re back to friends with benefits with nice, clear boundaries?”
“Oh, the boundaries are crystal clear. We’re friends. No benefits.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, flinching. He can’t be serious. “I asked that you stop acting like my boyfriend so we don’t blur the lines, not that you stop fucking me. Don’t be crazy.”
He sighs, resting a wrist over the steering wheel. “Listen, I can’t agree with you that the only reason this works is because we’re fucking. And if you think that I’d hate you—ever, let alone because you’re my girlfriend—then you’re out of your mind.”
“And you think that not sleeping with me is going to fix anything? Sir. If we don’t have sex, we don’t have anything.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.”
I know I’m overgeneralizing this because we do have a real friendship, too. And I value that. So much. It’s one of the losses I’d take if we were serious about each other when it failed.
The risks are not worth the rewards. Not even a little bit.
“I’m taking sex off the table to show you that we’re more than that,” he says. “That we have a connection, whether you want to ignore it or not. That I like you, Poppy Quinn, not just your pussy.”
I fill my lungs with oxygen in hopes it’ll douse the fire burning in my core.
“Maybe I’ll put your theory to the test, too,” I say, returning his shit-eating grin. “I’m going to make you want me so badly that you’ll abandon this stupid experiment and prove me right.”
Our gazes lock over the middle console as a delicious tension swirls around us.
It’s nearly impossible not to climb over and plant myself in his lap. Bring his hands to my tits. Crash my mouth against his. Although that’s totally a me move, we’re still early in this game, and he might be able to resist me for a day or two. I don’t want to be so forward that he wins round one.
I just want to torture him enough that he goes home and rethinks his position.
Then comes back and fucks me.
“You know,” I say, placing my hand on his thigh. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I need to go inside and take a hot shower.”
He fights a smile, picking up my hand and kissing my palm. Then he rests it on my lap. “Good try.”
Dammit.
He climbs out, making his way toward me. I watch him come around the front of the vehicle, raindrops soaking through his shirt as he opens my door, then grabs my bags from the back.
I jog to the stoop and find my keys, unlock the door, and step inside. Finn is right behind me with my things. He sets them on the floor.
“Thanks,” I say, studying his face. “You went out of your way for me tonight, and I appreciate it. I appreciate you. I always do.”
“Anytime.”
I trace his sternum with my fingertip, holding his gaze with my own. “You know, I could thank you properly if you stay.”
My body heats, begging for me to give in and say whatever he needs to end this game he wants to play. It’s been too long since I had him between my thighs, since his fingers touched every part of me in a way only he can. But I don’t, because I’m not giving in to his challenge when the boundaries we originally agreed on are still necessary.
