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"That's not what I want."
Letting out a huff of frustration, Mya crosses her arms over her chest and growls at me. "Then you tell me what you want because I'm confused. One second, it's nothing, the next it's everything, and now when I try to meet you in the middle, you aren't interested. Please, enlighten me."
I don't bother to mask the surprise I feel at her outburst. She's not wrong. I just didn't expect her to call me out on it. To put into words the fact that I am confused and scared and barely able to function without her in my life.
"It's not complicated. I want you, all of you, in every way you can think of. I want to be with you, not in secret, but out in the open. I want to hold you at night and walk you to class. I want to meet for coffee the way we used to. And I don't give a shit what anyone has to say about it, except you. But there is one thing I need to tell you."
My anxiety rises at the thought of sharing my secret with her. It's not that I don't trust her; I do, completely. It's just I've never told anyone about it, not even my friends. People who've known me for years have no idea the daily struggle I deal with. They think I disappear because I'm off hooking up with random women. Or in a biker gang. There was even a theory that I was a drug dealer at one point.
My favorite was when Max told everyone I was secretly gay and working at a male strip club. When Julian approached me about it shortly after we moved in together, I knew I had to get him back. I could have exposed his relationship then and there, in front of all our friends, but instead, I've held that over his head. The next night, Julian and I went over to Max's place for poker, but instead of my usual jeans and a t-shirt, I showed up in ass-less chaps and my leather jacket. Nothing else.
When the guys asked me what the hell I was wearing, I smirked and told them I couldn't stay long or I'd be late for work.
The entire room was silent. Except Julian who was attempting not to laugh.
Needless to say, I put that rumor to bed, and once I got Max alone, let him know I could expose him if he ever tried to say anything like that about me again.
I've never seen him so scared in his life.
Not even when he ran up the stairs earlier after Colt told him Mya was looking for him. Though, that was a close second.
"Brady, I don't need this to be a gushy, we-tell-each-other-everything, emotional relationship. It can just be about sex. That's fine. I'm not asking you to change for me. I like you the way you are."
If it were possible, my jaw would have hit the floor.
"Plenty of people have relationships where they just hook up from time to time. Friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. That could work for us too. If neither of us get attached, neither of us will get hurt. We just need to make sure we keep it strictly about the sex."
I can't do that. It's already about more for me, and I thought it was for her too. She made it seem like she needed more, wanted more. And now she only wants sex? What changed in the last three weeks?
"And if it's not?"
"Not what? About sex? Then we probably should walk away. If either of us catch strong feelings, we'll never be able to stay friends."
Friends.
The word feels like a slap across the face. Yes, we are friends. We've always been friends. Just friends. But something's changed between us. I know she felt the shift. It happened before I even kissed her. And the road we're headed down doesn’t lead to friendship village. It doesn't even pass that town.
I'm already invested in this. I already have feelings I don't want to admit to. And if I keep sleeping with her, I know I'm going to not only want more, I'm going to want it all. Everything I ever dreamed of. Her. Us. Together.
Now to get her to see that.
"We're already friends, dove. We've always been friends. And now we're more. Don't lie to me and tell me you don't see it. That you don't feel it. This connection. This force pulling us together."
"Of course I feel it. It's called attraction. Sexual tension."
"It's more than that."
"Is it?"
The fact she's questioning it has me wondering if I'm making it all up in my head. Time away from her has brought me very little clarity aside from realizing what I want. Maybe our time apart brought her a different form of clarity. Maybe she sees us in a different light now.
"Look, Brady. I'm more than happy to warm your bed from time to time, but let's keep it simple. No strings attached. If one of us starts to feel something deeper, we tell the other person. Open and honest. Deal?" She extends her hand between us, and I find myself staring at it.
Did she just proposition me to be her fuck buddy? And why do I feel like shaking on it is a bad idea?
Because that's what I'm doing.
I'm shaking her hand and agreeing to something I don't want. I mean, I do want to be with her, I want to be inside her, but not like this.
