Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Renly stood in Abby’s bathroom, his hands pressed to the Formica countertop, his eyes staring straight into his own in the mirror. Christ, last night was incredible. Making love, but also simply holding her in his arms and talking as they drifted off to sleep.
Yeah, absolutely wonderful.
And a mistake. A wonderful, terrible mistake.
He drew a deep breath, the weight of regret drowning out the shouts of joy that were ricocheting inside of him. This was on him. He should’ve said no.
She’d flat-out told him that she wasn’t a casual sex kind of girl. They’d talked about it. She’d opened up to him in a way they hadn’t done since they were kids, when no topic was too dicey.
So what that she’d said yes?
So what that she’d made the first move and sworn to him it was okay?
Deep down, it wasn’t what she wanted, and he knew that. That was the whole point of their talk last night. The whole reason why she’d quit dating that guy Travis. The whole reason why she’d gotten on that app. To try to find someone permanent. Something real.
It was old-fashioned and sweet and a little quaint, and he imagined that there were a lot of people in the world who thought that she was a fool for wanting that integrity. He wasn’t one of those people. He really wasn’t.
And yet he’d still pulled her close. He’d still buried himself inside her in a goddamned wave of passion. He’d still done everything wrong, and damned if it hadn’t felt so very right.
“You’re an idiot. You know that, right?” His reflection just stared back at him, unwilling to share its secrets or share the blame.
He turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face. Then he grabbed the towel, dried off, and opened the bathroom door. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in the Minnie Mouse shirt looking at him. He felt the weight of accusation in her eyes, but when he looked close he didn’t actually see it. It was all in his imagination.
“It’s okay, you know.”
He smiled, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “You’re reading my mind.”
Her smile spread into a delighted grin, and the trill of her laughter eased his guilt. “It’s what I’m good at, remember? We always knew what each other was thinking.”
He nodded and returned to sit beside her on the bed. She scooted over so that her back was against the headboard, and he shifted so that he was facing her.
“Are we okay?”
Once again, he wanted to laugh. “Under the circumstances, I think I should be the one asking you that.”
“We’re fine,” she said, reaching for his hand. “We’re really, really fine.”
“Listen,” he began, then cleared his throat. “I, um, I just want to be clear. The truth is I would happily have a repeat performance of last night, but I know you don’t want that.”
He paused to watch her face, but her expression was entirely unreadable. The only clue as to what was going on inside her head was the way her eyes widened just slightly. But he didn’t know how to read that, so he just pressed on. “I won’t ask. I won’t push. I don’t want...”
“What?”
“I don’t want to toss away what I think we got back by letting sex get in the way. I know this was a one-off. I know it, and I’m cool with that. I suppose I should probably regret sleeping with you at all,” he said. “But I don’t. We found each other again, and we both had a good time, but it was a one-off. No friends with benefits, right? But I still really want to keep the friend part, and I want to make sure that we’re on the same page.”
Her face lit with her smile. “You really are the last gentleman standing,” she said as she took his hand. “And I really do have great taste in friends.”
He studied her face. “So we’re good? You don’t feel weird about the whole thing?”
“I don’t. I really don’t. And I’m so grateful for everything that you’re saying. Last night, it felt... It felt like a great reunion, and it felt like taking care of old business. And all of that is good. Because it also felt like a start.”
“And you don’t want to keep on…?”
“I—” She shook her head, then cleared her throat. “I told you. I’m not interested in a friends-with-benefits thing. Flings aren’t my style.” She leaned forward and took his hands. “But if I was that girl, I would totally be into it with you, at least so long as it didn’t screw up our friendship. Because I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you back.”
“Friends forever,” he said, then extended his elbow in the bizarre version of a handshake they’d come up with in fifth grade. A laugh bubbled out of her, and she bumped her elbow with his.
“Forever,” she said.
He nodded, and though he was glad about the outcome, he couldn’t deny the little voice in his head that told him he was closing the door on something extraordinarily special.