19. Indiana
NINETEEN
INDIANA
After watching Salem leave, I lie on my bed for a few minutes, mentally replaying what happened between us tonight and arriving at a conclusion. I have a serious fucking problem.
Launching myself up, I grab my sweats and head downstairs to the guys. They’re all in the living room still, talking shit over video games and drinking a few beers. Lowen glances up from his phone, tilting his head as his brow creases.
“What’s wrong, Indy?”
His question makes everyone else stop what they’re doing like a record scratching. I flop down in an armchair and drag my hand through my hair as my heart races and I feel a little sick to my stomach. I want to talk, but my voice feels caught in my throat. Am I dying?
“Dude,” Kit says. “Breathe.”
I exhale a few shaky breaths until the room stops spinning enough for me to form a coherent thought. “I fucked up, guys.”
“How?” Kit asks. “We saw him leave, so you didn’t accidentally kill him or something.”
Jerryn smacks Kit’s arm. “Be serious.”
“I am being serious. He looks like he murdered someone.”
I close my eyes and shake my shoulders. “Does emotional murder count?”
“Oh no,” Lowen says. “Indy. What did you do to him?”
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I shrug. “I don’t know how it happened. Something about Salem brings out this weird, romantic, almost clingy vibe in me that doesn’t make any fucking sense. I asked him to stay.”
“Overnight?” Ridley’s voice reveals his shock.
“Yeah.” I swallow past the bitterness on my tongue. “I took him to dinner and…” I scratch the back of my neck. “It felt like a date. I was acting like it was a date. I stopped doing that shit a decade ago when people couldn’t figure out that I was just priming them for later.”
“And this was different?” Bane asks.
“I think so? I didn’t have to warm him up, you know? We agreed from the beginning that this was just sex.” I clamp my hands together because they’re fucking trembling. “But it’s like I wanted to take him out and spend more time with him. I just don’t fucking know why.”
“He’s a good guy,” Lowen says casually. “He’s fun. He’s a friend, right? It makes sense you’d want to spend time with a friend.”
“I don’t fuck my friends. I knew this was a bad idea. Now I have to see him at work all the time and pull back so he doesn’t think I’m catching feelings or something.”
“Is he acting like he’s falling for you?” Kit asks. “Or are you freaking out all on your own?”
“Because you asked him to stay,” Ridley adds. “But he’s gone.”
Their questions do more harm than good as my heart rate speeds up again and a wave of heat washes over me. I swear to fuck I’m allergic to emotions.
“Breathe,” Lowen says softly. “Talk to us. Safe space and all that.”
My thoughts are racing, pulling me to my feet to pace the crowded room. Finally, the panic subsides when I’m hit with a memory from three years ago. I chuckle, exhaling as my world rights itself again.
“Fuck. I remember now.”
“Care to clue us in?” Jerryn asks. “Because you’re weirding us out.”
“Sorry.” I sit down again, leaning back. “It took a few minutes for me to realize what’s happening.”
“You’re falling for Salem?” Lowen asks.
I scoff. “No. This happened to me once before. With this guy Maxi. Same shit—coworker, had a vibe. We were spending so much time together that our friendship took on a relationship feel before I realized what was going on. I got this. I just need to draw a thicker line. Friendship and coworkers on one side, sex on the other.”
The guys stare at me like I’ve turned green.
“Did Maxi want more?” Kit asks.
“Yep. Of course. They always do.”
There’s a subtle exchange of looks around the room.
“What?”
“How is this situation like that?” Bane asks. “Salem doesn’t sound like he’s trying to get more.”
I ignore the warning ping his question causes in my chest and shrug. “He’s playing a game with me. I’ve seen it a thousand times. He’ll act hard to get, but the sex is so fire, he knows I’ll be chasing him for more.”
My earlier comment about chasing him if he tried to leave comes back to haunt me, along with my weird jealousy every time a man even looks at him, and my clingy ‘let’s shower and why don’t you sleep here’ bullshit, but I mentally shake it away.
“He’s just as skilled at this stuff as I am,” I continue.
“Uh-huh,” Ridley says. “Sounds like a pro.”
“Yeah.” I drag a hand through my hair then stretch my neck back and forth as calmness takes hold again. “Damn, he’s good. I almost fell for it. Salem’s talented, I’ll give him that.”
“Indy…” Lowen sounds concerned.
“Thanks for listening while I talked it out. I’m good now.”
I notice the uncomfortable looks, but I ignore them. I know what I have to do. Just sex and work—leave the friendship stuff out of it until the attraction runs its course. I got this. This is what I do.
Keeping Salem firmly in the fuckzone is a walk in the park for a guy like me.