Page 61 of It Should Have Been Me

“I think Starla and Carla are trying to tell you something.” He’s utterly amused by my embarrassment. “I’m just reading between the lines here, but I think they want me. Maybe we should just have makeup sex.”

“What? No! Scott, you’re impossible! We’re not having makeup sex because we’renotmaking up! We’re over! Finished. I’m in a relationship withanotherman. I just came over to smooth things out with you, and you suggest makeup sex. What is wrong with you?”

“Jesus!” he says, slightly taken aback by my attack. “No need to get your panties in a bunch. If you find it so offensive, we can just have regular sex.”

Despite my annoyance, I start giggling. Uninhibited and ceaseless, it spurts out of me, and it gets him going, too. I love watching him laugh, the way his face turns red. It’s infectious.

As our laughter dies down, I decide that this needs to end here. The hostility has dissipated. That’s all I wanted to achieve, so now it’s time to leave. “Um...I’m gonna get going.”

“Stay for a bit. Like...three minutes or so.”

“You’re a douche.” I’m giggling again. “And the answer is no. A vehement no!”

That cocky grin is plastered on his face again and his eyes are slowly taking me in from head to toe. “You don’t trust yourself to be alone with me.”

“Nope. I do not. Not with you...looking like that.” I gesture to his bare chest in all its chiseled glory. “And definitely not with you...looking at me like that.”

He drops his head back against the headboard. “How am I looking at you?”

I don’t know when it happened, but Playfulness left the building then Lust crept in through the back door when no one was watching, and the sneaky bugger obviously switched off the aircon because it is uncomfortably hot in here. Those smoldering blue eyes remain fixed on me, and I can see every dirty thought running through his mind. He doesn’t even try to hide his arousal. It’s growing beneath his sweatpants. My throat runs dry, my heart rate quickens, and I feel moisture dampening my panties.

“Like...that,” I reply, my voice sounding a little hoarse. “You’re undressing me with your eyes and—”

“I am...and if you come a little closer, I could do it with my hands instead.”

I’m trying to turn away from him, steer clear of this catastrophic shit-fest we’re on the brink of, but I can’t even think straight at this moment. I take a deep breath and force logic to override my hormones for a change. “Scott, we can’t do this. It’s wrong on so many levels. I don’t want to cheat on JP.”

“You already have. A few times, actually. One more time isn’t going to make a difference.”

Justification like that would only work on someone who’s looking for any excuse to fall into temptation. That’s me. I’m that guy. That worked on me. I’m astonished at how easily I was convinced. Once again, my divided loyalty comes into play. Only it’s not divided. It’s heavily leaning to one side. Arguably, thewrongside. It is a notable fact that my body has no idea how to win this argument.

I try to find another reason because wanting this man is so ingrained in me that this whole interaction doesn’t feel wrong even though it’s very, verywrong. “And I don’t want drama at the wedding. Isa will kill me if she finds out.”

“She won’t. It will be our dirty little secret.”

I take a second to breathe through the effect those words have on me before I continue. “And what about you, Scott? You still have feelings for me.”

“A lot. So many.”

“Exactly. And they’re going to get hurt. I don’t want that.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about me?”

“You’re not getting it! I have to worry about you because you’re clearly not thinking straight. You and I have been making very bad decisions together...and I don’t know how to deal with the consequences. I’ve been losing my mind trying to get hold of JP, but when I do eventually speak to him again, I...I don’t even know how I’m going to tell him about this, about us, our past together. How do I tell him that I slept with another man...and that man just happens to be my ex-fiancé?Whenam I going to tell him? Do I tell him before he gets here to save him the embarrassment? Do I tell him when he gets here, so we can at least have the discussion in person? Do I tell him before or after the wedding, so I don’t ruin my sister’s special day? These questions are driving me crazy, Scott. This whole situation is a disaster.”

He heard every word I said, and all I get in return is a slight nod of indifference. “You seem stressed out. I still recommend that you move closer so I can...comfort you.”

I’m torn between holding back a smile and flinging something at him. “Can you please take this seriously?”

“Okay, answer this for me. If you and I had to get naked and just have sex for the rest of the afternoon, and I’m talking, like, earth-shattering, mind-blowing, dick-numbing sex – Do you think everyone will hate you once they find out what you’ve done?”

“Yes!”

“Now, explain to me how it would be different if you turned and walked out of my apartment right now.”

I think about it and humph my irritation when I realize the answer. “Nothing would be different.”

And there’s that naughty smile again. “I don’t about you, but I’m all in for option one.”

---