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Obviously, this is a deal-breaker, but I don’t want to hurt the guy, so I have to let him down easy. But that means no more mind-blowing sex. No more sleepovers, either, which I will only admit to myself this one time that I sort of like. Still, cold turkey is the way to go. Clean slate. Full stop.
Is it hot in here?
“What’s wrong?” Noah’s brows draw together in gentle concern as he reaches for my arm.
I pull it away to scratch my neck again. “I feel itchy.”
“Are you having an allergic reaction?”
“Maybe?”
“Did you eat something weird? Or touch something weird?”
I scratch at my forearm when he reaches for it again. “No. I… Can you stand over there?” I point to the far side of the room.
“Where?” He twists to look behind him.
“Just…there. Back. And stop looking at me like you like me.”
“I do like you.”
“Yes, but don’t look at me like you do. Look at me like I’m just a piece of ass.”
Noah pulls back with a frown. “You’re not just a piece of ass. That's what I'm trying to tell you. You're important to me.”
“I know. I think that’s the problem.”
“Why is that a problem?” He shifts his head back and forth, clearly not following me.
“I’m not important to anyone. And don’t say you because you’re fucking me so that doesn’t count.”
“Fine.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “What about Xander?”
“I’m pretty sure he wants to strangle me half the time.” I snort as I itch my chest.
“If that were true, he’d have done it by now. Plus, Niko likes you.”
“Niko tolerates me for Xander.”
“His sister loves you.”
“That might actually be true, but only in a drinking buddy kind of way. And that’s fine. It’s better that way.”
“How is that better?” He reaches for me again, but I wave him back.
“There’s no false hope with drinking buddies.”
“False hope? What does that mean?”
“Drinking buddies are for a good time only. They aren’t expected to care about you beyond their stool at the bar. You hang out and have fun, but that’s all it is. I’m good with it.” I'm getting hives. Great. Just what I need. I'm pretty sure they're making my brain swell, too… Making me say things I normally wouldn’t.
“I don’t think anyone sees you as just a drinking buddy. I don’t. Why are you itching yourself raw?”
“Because you’re messing up the pattern. Fuck around, have fun, say goodbye.” I scratch at my lower back.
“I don’t want to say goodbye.”
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Everyone does. That’s how it works.”
