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“I’m sorry, too.”
“Are you going to do it again?”
“I don’t know.” I answer honestly.
I can’t lie to him.
“You can’t become a junkie, Abbey. I can’t stand that thought. It terrifies me. Please.”
“I won’t become a junkie.”
“Promise me.”
“Wes.”
I don’t want to make him a promise I’m not sure I can keep. I enjoyed the high a lot, and while I’m sure I wouldn’t do it too often, I’m not ruling out doing it again.
“Abbey.” He sighs.
“I won’t become a junkie.” I repeat my earlier statement.
A junkie keeps chasing the high. I could just do it a few times.
“Are you going to keep hanging out with him?”
“Probably. It makes the label happy.”
“Does it make you happy?”
I shrug. “Not as happy as being with you made, but it’s better than being alone.”
“Is it? Going on drug binges is better than being alone?”
“It’s a distraction from the pain.”
“I can be a distraction from the pain.”
“You are the pain.”
“But I could be a distraction, too.”
“How?”
“Sex. Maybe we can’t be together as friends. Maybe we can’t be a couple, but we can be fuck buddies.”
“No.” I whisper, heat flooding my cheeks and other places at the idea of fucking him again.
The thought is rather intriguing. I’d love nothing more than to fuck him again. Sex with him was the best sex of my life, but there are too many feelings between us. We love each other. It would get confusing. It wouldn’t work.
“Just like that? Was it that bad for you?” He chuckles lightly, almost as if he is hurt by my quick response.
“We can’t be fuck buddies. We have feelings for each other.”
“We could try. Have sex without letting the feelings in.”
“Wes, I don’t know.”
“Anything but drugs, Abbey.”
