Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“For now…” I put on the robe and hesitantly walk toward him on the couch. I want to run in any other direction besides this one but I did promise to talk to him and after that selflessly mindblowing orgasm he gave me, I can’t exactly up and leave.
“Let’s talk, brat.”
Immediately, I feel my cheeks flush. “I don’t think you can call me that casually anymore,” I comment, looking anywhere but at him.
I hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, I absolutely can.” He takes my chin and forces my eyes to meet his. “What do you want from this? From me?
“We’re just jumping right in, huh?”
“I think it’s fair to say we’ve already jumped. Now we’re falling and trying to figure out if we’re landing on a mountain of pillows or a field of jagged rock.”
“Poetic.”
“Dani.”
“Okay, okay, just…hold on.” Bolting from the couch, I run into my room, quickly replacing the robe and what’s left of my sexy black set with shorts and a tank top. Grabbing my notebook from my bedside table, I squat back on the couch in pretzel position.
“I wrote some things down.”
“Why did you change?”
“I prefer to be fully clothed for this conversation.”
“Prudent but disappointing.”
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I open my notebook to the page titled “imagine if you fucked Arden.” He glimpses at the page and meets my eyes with raised eyebrows.
“Been thinking about this much?”
I shrug. “Just all day. And maybe some time before that…” I let my voice trail off so as not to truly tell him the length of time in which I’ve envisioned having sex with my best friend’s brother. The time might span years for all I know.
I’ve always been a bit of a loose cannon. A therapist would probably consider me “love starved” because of my upbringing and I have no issue with “giving it away” whenever I wanted to. I have no regrets about my sexual history.
And ever since Arden gave me my very first kiss, he’s always been the one to grace my nighttime visions. Well, unless I was in a relationship or going through a rewatch of Gilmore Girls. Luke Danes could always get it.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this much longer than he has, but there’s no way I’m going to tell him that.
“I have three rules.”
“Rules?”
“If we’re going to do this, we need rules, Arden.”
“Do what? Date?”
“Oh god, no. No dating.” Arden’s eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Not real dating anyway. We’re still in a pretend relationship, right?”
“Right?” He answers tentatively, waiting for me to continue.
“So, I don’t see why we can’t enjoy the benefits of our pretend relationship.”
Suddenly the lightbulb goes off in Arden’s head. His circuits have connected, and he’s realizing that I’m offering my body to him without the headache of a labeled relationship. No commitment, no real boyfriend/girlfriend drama, no strings.
Every man’s dream. Right?
Then, why does he look so…sad. Again? Always a sad face on this one. Like I kicked his puppy instead of offering myself on a silver platter.
“What’s with the face? You’re not interested?”
Arden’s quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about what he wants to say next. His next move could really make or break this whole thing. So I appreciate that he’s taking his time to really think this through.
Eventually he sighs. “Can I hear the rules?”
“Yes,” I open my notebook back up and look down at the three bullet points in the middle of the page. “Rule number one: No sleeping in each other’s beds.” I look up at his face but he’s stonecold serious. Not one single give away.
Glancing down to the list, I continue. “Rule number two: transparency. If one of us stops enjoying it or meets someone else, it stops.”
I look up at him but he’s silent again so I just finish us off. “And rule number three: Margot can’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t want to get her hopes up.”
“Hopes? Hopes for wh—”
“So, do we have a deal?” Cutting him off, I push my open hand against his chest in a shake.
He looks at the hand and then back at me.
He looks so torn, like he wants to agree to my terms because it means he gets access to my body whenever he wants–and vice versa, which is really what’s important here.
But his body language is telling me he might reject my offer and if he does, I’m not sure how we’re going to go back to the way it was. If we ever can.
Arden glances down at the watch on his wrist before he takes my right hand but he doesn’t shake it, instead he gently pushes it onto my lap. “I need a minute to think about this. Is that okay?”
I’m shocked. It’s not a flat out rejection but it’s not a yes, either. I’m not sure how to feel about it. Taking the hand I had extended to him, Arden brings my knuckles to his lips and kisses them gently before getting up from the couch.
“Just a minute?” I ask, whipping around to follow him into his bedroom.
“Yeah, just…let me think.” He says gently but I can’t get a read on him. Is he just trying to think of a way to let me down easily? Or does he not like the rules? Whatever it is, I don’t know if I can wait “a minute” to get an answer from him.
His door starts to close but I push it open. “Wait, it’s Sunday. Don’t you want to study?”
Arden glances at me over his shoulder, his phone in his hand like he’s about to call someone. “Later,” he says, pushing the door so that it actually closes this time.
Well…that is certainly not the outcome I was envisioning.