Page 77 of The Worst Guy Ever
“Damn that’s a shame. I love morning sex.”
“Number two, no sleepovers. Number three, you can’t tell anyone. This is just between us.”
“Better cancel the full page announcement I took out in the newspaper then.” That earns me a playful kick in the stomach, but I grab hold of her foot and begin to massage it.
“Is this exclusive?” I ask, suddenly feeling nervous about her answer.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We can see other people.”
My chest tightens. I thought the whole point of this was to make things easier for us both while we’re so busy. I’m happy to keep things casual, but the truth is, I haven’t wanted to sleep with anyone else for a while, and I’m starting to hate the idea of anyone else getting even within an inch of her. How did we go from friends-with-benefits to me craving something exclusive in the space of a week?
“You wouldn’t be jealous?”I’m sick just thinking about it.
“I don’t get jealous,” she laughs, dismissively. “You’re free to do whatever, whoever, you want, but I also don’t want to hear about it. Just be safe.”
“Always.”
“You should know I have an IUD and I get tested regularly. My last results were clear.”
“Me too. I mean the testing, not the IUD, but condoms are non-negotiable for me.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
She climbs out of my bed, and while I watch her pull her clothes back on I flick away the urge to ask her to stay. She was pretty adamant about the no sleepover thing. In my bedroom mirror she adjusts everything, pulling the strings of her hoodie so they’re equal, then rakes her fingers through her hair. I want to tell her she can leave a hairbrush here, spare clothes, anything she wants. I’ll clear a drawer. This is so unlike me to feel needy, but I know I won’t be able to go long without having her here again.
“When shall we see each other?”
“Do we need a schedule?” she groans. “Surely that takes the fun out of it.”
“I think maybe we do, just so we’re clear what to expect of each other. I don’t want you getting pissy if you turn up here looking for sex and I’m not home.” I can’t even begin to imagine how pissedIwould be if I found out she’d come over and I’d missed her. “When works for you?”
“Hold on while I get my diary out,” she mocks. Standing behind her, I reach up under her hoodie again, my new favourite game. I pinch the soft skin at her side and she squeals.
“Tuesdays and Sundays are out for me.” I do need to be clear about that.
“Why?”
Shit.“Um, standing engagements.”
“That’s fine, I don’t actually care and I box those nights, anyway.” I bet she does care, I bet she’s dying for answers, but I’m not ready to give them. “Fridays are out because of Friday dinners,” she continues.
“Those are my best nights of the month.”
“They are?”
“Yeah, I get to see my favourite people. It would be even better if I got to take you home afterwards.” I kiss her neck, sneaking my tongue out for a taste.
She moans softly, then spins around and pushes me away. “Fine. Occasional Fridays, but I mean it. Nobody can know about this, so promise you’ll keep your hands to yourself when we’re around our friends.”
I cross my fingers behind my back. “Promise. What about Monday?”
“Eww, nobody has sex on a Monday.”
“I could have sex on a Monday.”
“Monday I recover from all the sex I’ve had at the weekend.”I’ll make damned sure that sex is with me.
