Page 21 of The Try Line

"How did it go?"

Janel's sleepy voice startles me. I look over to find her laying on her side, watching me.Fuck, how long has she been looking at me?

Can she tell I'm hard? Can she tell I'm panicking? Can she sense my guilt?

"W-what?"

I’ve always worried she can read my thoughts and knows how often I think of him. Even when I'm in our bed. Just like I worry that she knows the reason I look away from her when she touches me is because I see too much of him in her eyes. My anxiety is sure she can see right through me, that she can smell him on me no matter how much I scrubbed my skin.

Logically, I know it isn't the case. As long as everything looks okay on the outside, she doesn't tend to notice me. I've become a master at hiding who I am, at slipping under the radar. I know exactly how often to nod when she's ranting about the other board members of our neighborhood's Homeowners Association. I know how long to wait after she goes upstairs to make sure she'll be asleep when I come to bed. I can even tell when she's going to be in the mood, and plan accordingly to either avoid her or work myself up to it. It's not all bad. She's given me the most precious gift in the world, and a nice life overall. It's my fault I can't be happy with what I have, and instead pine for a life that passed me by a long time ago.

"The party?" she reminds me, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, didn't sleep much."

"What time did they all go home?"

"I think a couple of guys slept over, but the party broke up around three."

She cranes her neck to look at the alarm clock. It's just after seven.

"You must be exhausted," she says with a pout.

Her eyes roam down my bare chest. I originally came to bed in my usual long sleeve pajamas, but I got overheated while trying to ignore my erection. The erection she notices with a sly grin. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth, and her hand caressesacross my stomach. Just her touch, or maybe it's my apprehension over her touch, has me shrinking back.

"I, uh, need to pee," I blurt, scrambling out of the bed towards the bathroom.

Janel flops on her back with a sigh, and I pretend not to notice her frustration. I'm a fucking asshole, okay? For eighteen years, I've considered any physical relationship with mywifeto be cheating onhim. And now that he's here, in this house, just down the hall, there's no possible way this is happening.

I wash my face and brush my teeth, deciding I might as well get my day started. I consider going for a run, but with the humidity and my lack of sleep the past few days, I don't want to push it too much.

"Hey, hon? I think I might head out to the bakery and pick up some pastries for breakfast. What do you think–"

My attempt at redirecting her intentions has clearly failed. Janel is sitting back on her heels in the middle of the bed, completely naked. I force myself to look at her, not wanting to hurt her feelings or start anything because of my lack of attention.

My eyes roam her body, the curve of her hip, flat stomach, and full breasts. She's a beautiful, desirable woman. I wish I could make myself want her. And there have been plenty of times that I’ve gone through the motions. Sex is sex, right? The right amount of friction on the right part of your body is going to get you off, eventually.

But this isn't one of those times. Hell, I'm not sure how long it'll take me to recover from his visit to be able to function the way she needs me to.

Her eyes drop to the front of my pants, which are no longer tented. I swallow, and before I can open my mouth to even start making excuses, she's standing in front of me.

"What’s wrong, Mikel?" she asks, not unkindly. "Is it me?"

It's more who you're not.

"No, of course not. I just… I don't know, hon. I think it's just stress. Our boy graduating and all the family here and whatnot. But I'll see a doctor after everyone's gone, if it'll make you happy."

She purses her lips and looks at me thoughtfully. It’s not the first time I’ve tried blaming my lack of interest on erectile dysfunction. It’s better than her knowing that I’m simply not interested in sex with her.

"Is it him?" she asks in a small voice. "Because he can stay at mom and dad's now that my grandparents are leaving. They'll be heading out today, so there will be a room open over there."

I never told Janel, or anyone else for that matter, what happened between Jason and me all those years ago. But she's a smart woman. She knowssomethinghappened between us. Her brother didn't abruptly move overseas for nothing. It was obvious that it was to get away from me, considering we went from being the best of friends to never speaking again.

It would probably be smarter to have Jason out of the house. But I don’t want to create more problems or admit how much he gets to me.

"No, it's fine. We talked some, actually. We're trying to be… friendly."

That's one word for it.

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