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Lainey
“What do you think theguys are doing right now?”
I sigh and contemplate throwing the cushion I’m sitting on at Cass. Ben, Duncan, and Seb are at the races and Cass and I are supposed to be having a girly night. The idea was to gorge on popcorn and chick flicks and take my mind off the fact that it’s been six months since I’ve had sex, but it’s impossible to distract myself properly when Cass won’t stop messaging Duncan and talking about how much she likes him, and how amazing he is in bed.
“The guys are probably drinking and trying to hook up,” I say. “Well, Ben and Seb are. Duncan is probably kicking back and watching the fun.”
Damn it, now I’m thinking about Ben flirting and making out with some woman he’s going to take home for the night. It’s yet another reminder that I’m not getting any, and it raises the question I’ve been trying so hard not to ponder: just how amazing is he in bed?
Cass snorts. “I’ve never seen two bigger manwhores than Ben and Sebastian. I don’t know what it is about those two, but they never strike out.”
“They don’t,” I agree irritably.
“Does that bother you?”
Feeling her studying me, I keep my eyes glued to the TV screen and try not to give anything away. “Does what bother me?”
“You know, the fact that Ben never strikes out with other women?”
“Why would it?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who looks like you just swallowed some lemon juice that went down the wrong way.”
“I just want to watch the movie, Cass.”
“Are you jealous? Of the girls Ben’s hooking up with?”
I turn around to glare at her sitting behind me on the couch. “Of course not.”
I can’t be jealous. I refuse to believe I am. Possessive, I’ll admit to, but not jealous.
And yet... I’m starting to loathe seeing him flirt with other women. Worse still, when I watch him with a woman, I can’t stop picturing myself in her place.
Last night, I should have been relieved he spent the whole night with me instead of trying to hook up with someone, but I was wired and anxious the whole time. I was aware of every touch and every look between us, as well as the heat blooming low in my belly. I knew exactly what I wanted him to do about it, and there wasn’t anything remotely friend-like about it.
“If you’re not jealous, why don’t you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know, Cass,” I say, frustrated because I’m suddenly worried she might be right. “Maybe because I’ve been hanging out to watch this movie.”
She leans forward and holds my gaze. “And I suppose the fact that this movie is about a heartbroken manwhore who eventually realises he has feelings for the main character has nothing to do with it.”
“It doesn’t.”
God, I hope I haven’t been desperate to watch this movie because it reminds me of Ben.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.”
She drops the smug look, which I appreciate, but the concerned look that takes its place is far worse. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Lainey, especially when he’s chatting up a woman.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, you look like you want to be that woman, Lainey. You look like you want to screw his brains out.”
My body reacts to her choice of words, a vision of Ben and me together forming in my head. My nipples tingle and tighten, and slick heat gathers between my thighs.
I clear my throat. “There’s nothing but friendship between Ben and I.”
