Page 37 of Green
“I can take care of that.” He said that very seriously. So seriously, and with such a sexy voice that my mouth immediately went dry and I started to feel that pressure between the legs.
I scoffed, and pretended to search for something in my handbag.Maybe I’ll find the exact right thing to say in here.“Shut up, Walker.”Nope. Didn’t find it.
“I’m not kidding.”
I looked up at him, with his messy hair and his tanned skin and veiny forearms and brown eyes that were…looking at me in a way that he had never ever looked at me before…and now he was laughing.
“You asshat.”
“Oh my God you should have seen your face. Like having sex with me is literally the worst thing you could think of.”
I would cut off my own foot just to kiss you on the mouth again you idiot how can you not see that.
How could hebelike this? Like last night never happened? Like it was no big deal to him at all. I wanted to run to my room and add to my Just Friends journal—the one that I had completely filled over the last year, except I had already written it—but I would write this again on the inside cover in bold red Sharpie:He will never care about having sex with me the way I would care about it because he’s had so much more sex than I have.
I wanted to put on that camisole that I was going to wear the night before, so Ben could see me in it today. So Theo could see that I was wearing it just for Ben. So Theo could see me in it, and…and what?Be overprotective of me again? As a friend?
This was exactly why I needed to move out and be legally single.
A clean slate.
After less than twenty-four hours with Theo back in town, things felt so messy.
I did miss him.
I did miss us.
I missed how things were between us when I had no reason to wonder if we were meant to be more than best friends.
But I was also so tired of it all.
“Well, this has been truly delightful, but I have to go. I’m late for Ben.” I picked up my keys and immediately dropped them, bent down to pick them up and hit my forehead on the countertop. “Ow.”
“Buddy.”
“I’m fine.”And I don’t want a husband who calls me buddy.
“I’m driving you. If you get into an accident I will never forgive myself.” He looked so concerned and earnest.
“If you’re just messing with my head to try to cockblock me and Ben, then that’s just mean, because I need this. I’ve been working so hard to get myself to a place where I’m not…”
“Where you’re not what?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what? Finish that sentence.”
“Can’t. Gotta go. If you want to drive me, put on a shirt and some pants that don’t show the outline of your junk and hurry up.”
He smirked, and I immediately wished I hadn’t mentioned his junk.
“It’s too warm for ski pants. You’ll just have to force yourself to not look at the outline of my junk.”
We didn’t talk while he drove me to Ben’s place. Thank God. I almost fell asleep in the passenger seat. I was glad that he drove me. Things were hazy.
At one point, the car ahead of us stopped suddenly for a kid who was chasing a soccer ball across the street. When Theo hit the brakes, his right arm shot out to keep me from jerking forward and hitting my head on the dashboard.
“Did you just mom-arm me?”
