AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Every second is a lot of seconds,” she says. “But as I’m currently unemployed, I have a lot of seconds to spare. But I also have another condition.”
“Shoot,” I say, already knowing the answer will be yes. I’d sign over half my company to her if she asked for it, let alone whatever reasonable boundary she’s about to lay down.
She pulls in a breath, holding it for a second before she says in a rush, “After it’s over, we never see each other again. Ever.”
CHAPTER THREE
Jess
Sam’s face falls, and for a moment, I want to take it back, to assure him I didn’t mean it and that I want him in my life for the long haul.
Instead, I curl my toes into the bottoms of my sneakers and will my courage to hold.
I don’t want to hurt Sam, but I know myself. There’s no way I’m going to be able to have sex-of-convenience with a friend and then go back to being easy-breezy buddies again afterward. It would be too weird and embarrassing.
And that’s assuming I manage to pull off “losing it” without doing something mortifying like laughing hysterically during the act or making weird sex faces or accidentally biting his tongue off or something. I’m awkward as hell at the best of times and being naked with another person for the first time in my lifeisn’tgoing to be the best of times. It’s going to be terrifying and monumental, and yes, hopefully also fun, but there’s no way it will be fun enough to make me forget that it’s happening because Sam couldn’t find anyone else.
Because I’m his last resort.
I’m okay with being the last resort, I guess, but I don’t want to be reminded of it every time Sam and I hook up to fight orcs in a gaming party or meet up for coffee while he’s in town.
Besides, he had no trouble doing without The Bodacious Cho in his life for six whole years.
He’ll be fine with one and done.
And if he’s not, he can always say no.
I lift a hand, clarifying, “It’s not that I don’t like you or wish you well. I totally do. It’s just like you said—sometimes you need a fresh start. And I know I’ll need one after something like this.”
“How can you know?” he asks. “If you’ve never done it before? Maybe it will be different than you think.”
“Maybe,” I say in a tone that I hope makes it clear the chances of that happening are comparable to a snowball’s chances in hell. “But I seriously doubt it. And if that’s a dealbreaker for you, I’m happy to be friends instead. That might be best, I guess, considering we could eventually be working for the same company.”
His expression brightens. “So, you’re going to do it? You’ll take the job?”
“I’ll take a meeting with the team or my new boss or whoever’s in charge,” I say, “and then go from there. As long as that won’t be weird for you in the event we end up in a ‘never see each other again’ type of situation.”
His scowl returns with a vengeance, making him look even sexier.
The dumb part of me, the part that enjoyed kissing him more than binge-playing all three Super Mario Brothers games and eating a box of chocolate at the same time, shouts for me to do whatever it takes to convince him to kiss us again. It insists we need his mouth and his hands and all his other parts at our disposal way more than we need a job or food or maybe even oxygen.
But I keep my lips zipped, letting Sam make his own decision.
I don’t want to bully anyone into having sex with me, and Ireallydon’t want him to know how much I want him. I may be a virgin, but I’m no fool. I know all about interpersonal power dynamics and the fastest way to give up your power is to show your needy, horny, desperate-to-be-wanted-in-both-a-sex-way-and-a-more-than-sex-way side too soon.
Or…ever.
My neediness and horniness are on a need-to-know basis and Sam doesn’t need to know. He isn’t going to be my boyfriend or even my friend-with-benefits. He’s going to be a one-night stand, and one-night stands don’t get access to all my private squishy feelings.
They get skin and heat and hunger and a cordial goodbye when the sweaty stuff is over.
That’s it.
“Your stubborn face is still exactly the same,” he finally mutters, making my lips curve.
“Good. Then you’ll know better than to waste your breath arguing with me.”
He grunts, clearly still not pleased, but not walking away or saying he’ll skip the sex, either. A part of him must actually want that one night together as much as I do, or at least enough that it isn’t easy for him to take it off the table.
