Page 102 of Fun Together
I fidget at this, feeling heat rise up my neck to my face. His hair is still wet from showering—a shower we took together—and I’m only human. I know how that stubble along his jaw feels against the inside of my thighs now. I know what it feels like to curl up in the security of his arms. “It was amazing,” I say, unable to keep the tiniest hint of despair from my voice.
“Why do you say that in such a sad way?”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound sad. I just don’t want us to regret anything.” There’s also the Andrew-sized elephant in the booth with us that we haven’t talked about. “And I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
He looks at me sincerely, and I know he understands. “We won’t hurt him.”
I swallow, not ready to give up the fight. This need to convince myself and him that we can’t do this is overwhelming.Get out while you still can, or whatever.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” he asks.
What about feelings?I want to ask him, but we haven’t even begun to broach the subject of something more than sex between us. After last night, I’m scared to acknowledge this other thing floating out there that I think he feels too, but I’m not completely sure. “I don’t know if I can do a casual thing with you. You’re used to that, but I’m not.”
There’s a brief flash of annoyance on his face before the waiter arrives with our food. Is he annoyed that I’m overthinking this?
“Do you want a relationship with—” he pauses and clears his throat. “Are you looking for a relationship?”
I hesitate becauseof coursehe asks up front like that, and it makes me squirm. I don’t know what I want, and that’s the fucking problem.
“What are you looking for right now?” I move my hand back and forth between us to imply that I’m asking what he’s looking for with us. I also recall how he wanted to start trying to find someone, after realizing he’s never been in love before. Are we going down that road, or am I going to keep him from finding that with someone else if we continue whateverthisis.
He takes a bite of his hash browns and doesn’t answer for a few seconds. “I think we owe it to ourselves to keep exploring this.”
“What happens when we get tired of each other?” I ask. I fold my straw wrapper into an accordion to give myself something to do with my hands.
“That’s not going to happen.”
I pick up my fork and set it back down. “But it might. I think we just say the casual sex thing has been checked off the list and go back to being friends.”
It’s a pathetic defense and I know he sees how weak it is. He sighs and taps his fingers on the table. “Faye, you and I know we’re never going to be just friends. We passed that point after I gave you instructions on how to get yourself off in the tub.”
“You’re just bringing that up to get me flustered.”
“You’re very cute when you’re flustered. You get this red splotch right under your right ear. I want to kiss it.”
Damn him for countering my pathetic defense with his charming one. “My splotch is not cute. And you can’t kiss me in a Waffle House.” I toss the straw wrapper at him.
He holds the menu up, hiding our faces, and leans over to kiss me on the cheek.
“Hey,” he says to get my attention. “I understand how you’re feeling, and I don’t want to do anything that would cause anyone harm. But I want to keep spending time with you.”
I want that, too. So much. But I’m scared. “Promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me if you meet someone you want to pursue, that you’ll do it, and not feel bad for me.”
“Faye . . .”
“Promise,” I insist. This somehow gives me comfort—he’ll have the freedom to leave our arrangement whenever he wants.
“Believe me, when I decide to pursue someone, you’ll be the first to know.”
32
Faye
“I can’t do this.”
