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Ignoring his interjection she went on determinedly. “Good sex and getting along are not enough reason to get married. I mean, this relationship isn’t even for real.”
“It feels real to me. When I hold you in my arms and make love to you it couldn’t be more real. When you fall apart and scream my name when you come it sure as hell feels real.”
She flushed. “That’s sex, not love. We’re not in love. We’re friends with benefits.”
She got out of bed and went to the living room and began gathering her clothes. Running, because he’d hit a nerve? Or was he just deluding himself thinking he meant something to her? He’d followed her and watched her yanking on her shorts.
“Is that all this thing between us is to you? Sex and nothing else?”
“No, it’s friendship too,” she said, sounding a little desperate. “Where is my bra?”
He picked up her bra where it had landed under the coffee table and handed it to her. “Running away, Damaris?” he asked grimly.
“I’m getting dressed.”
“I can see that. So you can leave more quickly?” She didn’t answer. Why was she so stubborn? “If you’re honest, you’ll admit that there’s more between us than simple friendship.”
“There is,” she flung at him. “We’re friends who have sex.”
“I love you, Damaris. I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. Deal with it.” He was tired. Tired of not telling her how he felt. Tired of having to be so careful not to spook her. Tired of pretending to be fine with the way things were when he wanted nothing more than to make everything about the two of them real.
“You feel something for me, Damaris. It might not be love, but it’s something more than ‘I have an itch and I want you to scratch it.’”
“Of course I have feelings for you. I’ve never denied that. And I’ve certainly never considered you as someone to ‘scratch my itch.’ That’s insulting to both of us.”
“I’ll tell you what’s insulting. What’s insulting is you denying there’s anything more than friendship between us.” Damn it, would she never admit her feelings? Or was he just assigning her feelings he wanted her to have? What if he was wrong and she didn’t? But he wasn’t wrong. He knew it even if Damaris wouldn’t admit it. “If that’s all you feel for me then why did you make love with me? You waited eight years. Why me?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” She’d managed to get dressed and looked like she was ready for flight.
“That’s too damn bad. I do want to talk about it.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“How do you know that when you’ve never even tried? I told you I loved you. That I have for a long time. I think that deserves some kind of response. I love you too, or go to hell. Or you could give me the real reason why you’re so damn petrified of falling in love.”
“I did tell you.”
*
Maybe she did owe him an explanation. But he owed her one too. “You love me? You’re in love with me?”
“That’s what I said.” Rather than any kind of loving expression, he had that stubborn look on his face.
“So you’ve been lying to me about your feelings for me for how long? Months? Years?”
“I haven’t lied. Not really.”
“Oh, yes, you have. You tricked me. You said this was going to be temporary and you agreed we were just friends. And now you say you’ve been in love with me since—”
“Since we met. Now you know I’m in love with you and you’re freaking out. Tell me something, Damaris. What would you have done if I’d told you I’ve been in love with you almost from the moment we met?”
“First, I’d have laughed in your face. Don’t forget, I know your rep.”
“God, I’m so sick of you talking about my reputation. You’re the one who kept pushing women on me. Sure, I slept with some of them. At first. Before I realized they weren’t what I wanted. They weren’t who I wanted.”
