Page 52 of Windlass

“Yes, but—”

“And we’ll pretendyouhave no worries about getting hurt. I won’t flatter myself.”

“That—” Angie huffed in frustration, her lips poised to argue. Stevie steamrolled on. She had to get this out before she lost her nerve.

“I’m an adult. So are you. I’ll tell you what will hurt more, and that’s trying to go back to the way things were. Theysayyou can’t die from sexual frustration, but do you really want to take that risk?”

“Don’t you even start with me,” said Angie.

“I’m starting.”

Angie leaned forward, falling onto her hands and knees and taking one slinking move toward Stevie after another, effectively closing the distance between them like something directly out of her dirtiest dreams. One more move and Angie would be on top of her—basicallywason top of her already, hair falling around her shoulders in thick waves begging to be tugged. In her coolest, most chill voice, Stevie quietly murmured, “Oh fuck.”

“Oh, you don’t deserve to get fucked after what you did to me.” Angie stopped with their faces inches apart. In the reflection on the opposite wall, Stevie could see Angie’s ass, and she had a visceral image of gripping Angie by the hips in that position and making her scream.

“Your complaint has been registered with the proper authorities,” said Stevie, her voice only slightly strangled.

“I’m not complaining. It’s a fact.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you do the fucking.” In addition to their reflection in the glass, Angie’s position revealed a devastating sweep of cleavage.

Angie closed her eyes and sank back on her heels, though she was now sitting between Stevie’s legs. “You can’t say things like that to me. It turns off my brain.”

“Oops.” Stevie’s brain had gone off-line some time ago.

Angie took a deep breath, as if preparing to say something she didn’t want to admit. In a low rush, she exhaled. “I can’t date you.”

“Ouch,” said Stevie, pretending like that hadn’t been a slap. No, not a slap. A knife slid between her ribs and into the beating muscle of her heart. At least, she told herself, trying to keep her face from crumpling, she’d been right to suggest only friends with benefits.

“Not that I don’t want to—”

The knife slid out an inch or two. Hope flooded in. If Angie wanted her, even a little, she’d be there. Self-respect was overrated. She’d take whatever Angie gave her. “So you want to then? I’m not just an object for your art?”

“Shut up. I’m being serious.”

“Okay. Be serious. I’m listening.” And dying a little. Surely Angie could see how serious she was beneath the lame attempt at humor. All she’d have to do was take Stevie’s pulse.

Instead, Angie took another steadying breath and wrung her hands together in what looked like an unconscious motion.

“Every important relationship I’ve ever had has ended horribly. Look at my family. Literally nobody there wants to talk to me except, apparently, dead Great-aunt Flannel. My exes all think I’m crazy. I’m the common denominator, and now I run before anything starts to feel real because—” Angie cut herself off and took a heaving breath. “I am not going to lose another best friend.”

Stevie wished, in that moment, for several tons of hot lead to fall on Angie’s biological family members, none of whom deserved to speak to her ever again. Telling that to Angie right now, though, wouldn’t help matters. She’d already tried more times than she could count, but apparently trauma wasn’t something you could logic away. As for Angie’s gaslighting exes, they made dog shit look appetizing. Again, though, explaining that wouldn’t score her any points right now. Besides, it was the running part that scared her.

In a voice as level as she could manage, which meant it shook only a little, she said, “You know how I feel about those people.Theydidn’t deserveyou. And I don’t exactly want to lose you, either, Angie. So we won’t.”

They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. And if Angie ran, as Stevie had seen her do before over lesser things, once vanishing for days after a run-in with one of her aunts, Stevie would have to get over her dislike of jogging and buy some running shoes.

“Have you evertriedfriends with benefits?” asked Angie with a skeptical twist to her lips.

“Have you ever tried friendswithoutbenefits? Oh wait. Yes we have. Let’s go back to that; it was so much fun,” Stevie said in a flat tone.

She was so close to winning Angie over. Close with Angie, though, was like almost catching yourself before falling off a cliff. She couldn’t afford to fail. If she did, it would kill a part of her she wasn’t sure she could get back.

“I could get you a vibrator.” Angie softened. “If you don’t have one.”

“Or I could tie you back up.”

“Don’t get cocky.”

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